The Phantom of the Opera Returns
by BloodRoseAngel91
Summary: The Opera Populaire has been rebuilt... and the managers are looking for a new diva, the Phantom's gaining respect wait where does Christine fit in? Chapters REWRITTEN!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Wow, so I deleted the story, after not having updated this in ages! And I am so, SO sorry! Things got a little crazy, so my apoligies. Hopefully, the past patrons and fellow supporters of this story, will come back... but anyway here are the chapters once again, but newly edited for your enjoyment!

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"Next." said Monsieur Andre as soprano after soprano had auditioned. They needed a new diva and _soon_. The next woman came on center stage, but wrapped in a cloak, her face covered by the hood. "Your name mademoiselle?" asked Monsieur Fermin.

"You will know when I am finished." came a soft reply from under the hood.

"Fine mademoiselle, what will you sing?"

"If it would not be a problem good monsieurs, I would like to sing accapella. It seems that my choice of song would give away my identity either way."

"Very well then- just start." the managers both snapped. Who did this girl think she was- the Prima Donna? But when they heard her sing, with the voice of an angel, they knew it was _her_ who had returned:

_In sleep he sang to me  
In dreams he came  
That voice which calls to me  
And speaks my name  
And do I dream again?  
For now I find:  
The phantom of the opera is there,  
Inside my mind_

The Ballet de Corpse stopped their practice from the side of the stage as Meg and Madame Giry both stepped forward. So did a shadow from above in the rafters. _Could it be… _

_Your spirit  
and my voice,  
in one  
combined:  
the Phantom of the Opera  
is there  
inside my mind . . ._

"Christine!" Meg bounded forward as Christine slowly lowered her hood. The managers sat there flabbergasted. Christine shyly smiled at the managers then ran into Meg's arms. "You're back! You're really back!"

Christine laughed. "Of course. You don't think I would actually stay away from my home do you?" Looking over Meg's shoulder she saw her mother figure and added, "Madame Giry, you must at least be somewhat happy to see me."

Madame Giry frowned, "What brings you here Christine? Are you here for good? Or have you just escaped the arms of you Vicomte for this moment?"

Christine paled and drew back from Meg's hug, bother of their smiles faded. _They don't know. But wouldn't Raoul have told them since he is their patron? Unless, _Christine winced suddenly, _he removed himself from the patronage for a reason._

"Christine, where _is_ Raoul?" Meg asked. Christine swallowed but never had the chance to answer as a white envelope floated down from the rafters and the shadow that had hid above disappeared. Madame Giry picked it up and scanned the few lines as the shadow in the rafters left the scowled.

"Monsieurs Andre and Fermin, it seems The Phantom has come to his descision about choosing Christine." Madame Giry said crossly. Handing it over to Christine to read:

_I applaud her efforts but the Vicomtessa de Chagny is not welcome at my theatre, make sure she is kindly removed, or it will be my patronage that shall be removed._

_- O. G._

"He's still here? All this time he's still here? How long has the Opera Populaire been open madam?" Christine shocked at the cold words written in red ink.

"Madame de Chagny, this theatre has been opened for three months now, did you not know? Or were you on your honey moon with the Vicomte?" Madame Giry asked.

"I am not Madame de Chagny, nor have I ever been given that title. I am still Mademoiselle Daae as always. I just thought that I would come and see everyone; I didn't even mean to audition. But it's been so long since…" Christine cut off abruptly.

"Since what Christine?" Meg pestered her friend not understanding the pain that was held in her friend's eyes.

"Since I sang" Christine whispered quietly. "All this time, I have been in England away from France. I- I took up writing poetry just to help _myself_ but then I felt homesick. It's been eleven months Meg, since I have seen any of you. If I had known…"

"But _why_ are you back Miss Daae?" Madam Giry needed to know.

"I told you why- well at least I sang why." The managers looked at each other. Although they did not want to do this, they had to listen to their patron.

"Miss Daae, as much as it has been a pleasant surprise to see you, we must ask you to leave this theatre before our patron is angered. We would not want to close down the Opera Populaire once again."

"Your patron is- is the Phantom of the Opera? What about the Vicomte de Chagny? When did he withdraw his patronage?"

"That is none of your concern mademoiselle as you are not part of the Opera Populaire any longer and our patron requests for you to leave this theatre. You will do so _immediately_." Monsieur Andre said firmly, as he began to pull her towards the entrance and exit of the Opera Populaire.

"Madam Giry! Meg! You must let me stay! Please Monsieur, if I cannot stay as part of this theatre, then let me stay as a guest. It seems that the Phantom did not hear the confirmation of my status." Christine objected. Madame Giry and the managers looked at each other.

"She will stay with me monsieurs, as my guest." Madame Giry finally said stating it firmly.

"But Madame Giry, the Phantom he wi"

"_I _alone will handle the Phantom. The Phantom may have been a teacher in the past, but this time, he will have to learn how to listen to other music than his own solitude. Perhaps with Miss Daae here, he will learn how to be a man once more. Perhaps this time, Christine will teach _him_." The managers winced at her words. If there was anyone else they were willing to bend rules for besides the Phantom, it was Madame Giry. "Meg, take Christine back to my room for now and stay there with her. I must make a visit to a friend."

"Yes maman." Meg said excitedly before pulling Christine in the direction of the room. The managers returned to the main theatre as they still had to hold an audition for the rest of the cast. Left alone was Madame Giry.

"Erik, what have you done?" she muttered to herself as she began the long way to the lair of the Phantom of the Opera.


	2. Chapter 2

Cheerfully Meg led Christine on a tour of the Opera house, that Christine had insisted upon even though Meg had assured her a dozen times that it was still the same. "Christine you have not spoken a word since you requested to see the theatre again, are you alright?" Meg asked curiously.

"Meg, was-" Christine stopped herself for a moment before going on, "was my room burned when the fire…" she trailed off as Meg realized what Christine was up to.

"Christine whether it was or not, I wouldn't know. I haven't visited that room since the night of the fire. Would you like to visit it?" Meg asked her slowly.

Christine sighed and shook her head. "No, my heart still bleeds and the thorn has not yet been removed; nor has the wound healed. Has the Phantom been here the whole time? Or has he just returned from his hiding place?"

Meg's eyes widened slightly. "I don't know Christine. I've never seen him. But once in a while you can hear him playing his organ quite vigorously. He's in pain Christine, you can hear it in his music. Did you come back for him?" Christine sighed, knowing this question would have been asked sooner or later.

"Please don't ask me that right now Meg. I wouldn't even be able to answer your mother if she asked me. Just please for now, do not tell anyone of our conversation. Even if _anyone_ can hear us right now." Christine looked sad for a moment then brightened. "Do you think they are done in the theatre for now? I _have_ to sing." Meg hesitated for a moment then nodded.

"For him?"

"Yes, Meg- for _him_."

She found him hunched over the organ, his hands hesitantly held over the keys as if in search for some sort of solace. "Erik, you do know she's back."

He whirled around the lines of anger evident on the unmasked side of his face; the darkened face of fury a deep contrast to the white half mask. "Madame, unless there is another ghost in this opera house in this theatre then I doubt _anyone_ could have written that note." The fires of _Don Juan _smoldering in his eyes from being beaten at his own game- Antoinette could easily see the injury of his self pride, and the sadness that lay beneath from what he had assumed was a form of betrayal.

"So you will not see her? Will you not at least stay in Box 5 while she is my guest? Or will you try to frighten her away as you tried with Raoul?"

"Do not _ever_ speak of that… boy! It is because of the Vicomte that I do not have the Madame in my arms at this moment."

"Madame? Erik you are mistaken, she is not married to him. She is- as she always was- _Mademoiselle_ Daae. Did you not hear her this afternoon?"

"Yet she left with him! They sang their song while they left! That boy was her lover, she is no longer mine!" The Phantom cried out miserably as his hands discovered another mournful chord within the black and white keys.

"If I had not seen the heart-broken look Mademoiselle Daae had on her face when she left that night, I would agree." Madame Giry said shortly.

"You were there with her that night? What happened?"

"That, she will have to tell." Madame Giry said calmly, hinting that for him to know

"But she left! She left the monstrosity behind and went off with her perfect childhood friend. Even she herself said that my face was distorted! She does not care for her Angel of Music anymore! I _am not_ her Angel of Music."

"She said that it was your soul, not your face. She always was the pure one, was she not monsieur? Seeing deeper beneath the skin for the soul that lived in all of us. And as for your saying that she does not care," Madame Giry paused as she strained to hear the music from _above_. "I believe she has entirely different feelings from your assumption."

Upon Christine's request, Meg had left. Christine knew that only she could do this and she alone would do this. _She needed him back_. "If only you had not pushed me into the arms of another, Angel." She said out loud to the dark silence, "But I know when I am not wanted and have just come to say my good byes. After that I will not set foot inside here again if that is still your wish, Monsieur." Quietly she began to sing the song that she had sung to her father's grave, but this time, dedicated to another important man in her life.

_You were once my one companion . . .  
you were all that mattered . . .  
You were once a friend and teacher -  
then my world was shattered . . ._

_  
Wishing you were somehow here again . . .  
wishing you were somehow near . . .  
Sometimes it seemed, if I just dreamed,  
somehow you would be here . . .  
_

_Wishing I could hear your voice again . . .  
knowing that I never will . . .  
My thoughts of you won't help me through  
all of this time alone . . .  
_

_Wandering through this place my home,  
i was close, so near you,  
What they said was all so wrong -  
you were warm and gentle . . .  
_

_Too many days fighting back tears . . .  
Why can't the past just die . . .?  
Wishing you were somehow here again . . .  
knowing we must say goodbye . . .  
_

_Try to forgive . . . teach me to live . . .  
give me the strength to try . . .  
_

_No more memories,  
no more silent tears . . .  
No more gazing across  
the empty time . . .  
Help me say goodbye _

_Help me say good bye._

Shakily collapsing onto the stage, her sobbing seemed to bring her song to a close. "No more Angel of Music. No more tears, no more pleads for forgiveness, I understand all of this now. It is time I moved on." Getting up she left the stage rushing through the doors of the main theatre not even noticing Madame Giry by the door gaping at her outburst of affection for the Opera Ghost.

"Christine, there is rehearsal tomorrow. Join us- you may be able to help with the new chorus girls." Madame Giry called after her. Christine stopped and turned around to face Madame.

"I would be honored to Madame Giry, but I will already be out tomorrow. There is a score I must settle with an old friend- or should I say an old patron."

"Raoul de Chagny? Why? So that you may run to him and not face what you knew would come?"

"No Madame! Do not have so little faith in me. He has been looking for someone and not that I have found her, it seems that my time in Paris may come to an end a lot shorter than I expected." Christine snapped. "I thought I might have been forgiven, but it seems that that will never happen. Send your patron my congratulations for finally having _his_ theatre in his hands."

"At least stay tonight Mademoiselle Daae. Your old room has never been touched. The ghosts will probably not annoy you for one night and you must join us tonight for dinner." Madame Giry desperately tried to persuade her. Christine looked hesitant as if scared what she might be confronted with.

"I guess one night would not hurt Madame. Thank you for you gracious hospitality. There is one place in this the theatre I must visit. And then I shall come with you to dine."

Before Madame Giry could protest, Christine had gone up the stairs towards the roof. Madame Giry smiled. _It seems Miss Daae forgets who knows everything that happens in the theatre._

The sun seemed to hold her in place for a long time as she watched the sun and all of Paris begin to sleep. Humming the duet from _Don Juan Triumphant_ she began to recall her part of sensual steps and she danced about the space on the roof pretending to be in the arms of her Don Juan. She smiled to herself as she recalled the many nights her Angel of Music had trained her in the chapel and other various places. She stopped suddenly. "Yet you still have a hold on me. I thought good byes meant a farewell forever to memories that are so unwelcome." Softly, so very softly she sang:

_Angel of Music!  
I denied you,  
turning from true beauty . . .  
Angel of Music!  
My protector . . .  
Come to me, strange  
Angel . . ._

Still nothing. _Why would he not come to her? _"Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her Father promised her that he would send her the Angel of Music…" Christine said out loud, as tears sprang from her eyes, "Her father promised her."

_I remember  
there was mist . . .  
swirling mist  
upon a vast, glassy lake . . .  
There were candles  
all around  
and on the lake there  
was a boat,  
and in the boat  
there was a man . . ._

"No, not a man- an Angel of Music." she whispered to herself fiercely as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "An angel who now denies my presence."

Meg Giry did not know what to expect after the escapade of being shooed out of the theatre by Christine. But she did know that Christine didn't want to leave. She had run to the managers, pleading for them to let Christine stay, and arguing that the Phantom had said the _Vicomtessa _was not invited to stay- not Christine Daae! And for them to think- once Paris found out that Christine had been told to leave, there may be an uproar. She was a diva, might as well have her stay until the Phantom personally told her to leave. After an hour of debating the managers had agreed: Miss Daae could stay if she so pleased, as long as she sang to an audience.

Rushing back to the ballerinas' quarters, she found Christine sitting on her bed, trying hard not to show that she had cried. "I have talked to the managers Christine, and they have said that you can stay as long as you sing."

"I have not sung an aria or opera for some time now Meg. The last time was _Don Juan_. Oh I forgot to tell you the news! Raoul is coming an-"

Meg cut her off "The Phantom will not allow him to stay. He will most likely be hung before he can step one foot inside _his_ theatre. You have caused enough trouble between two men- why repeat the past?"

"But that's just it Meg, he isn't here to see me. He's here to see _you_!" Christine exclaimed as Meg jumped up happily. Her two best friends married together- Christine thought- _that_ would be perfect. Well actually second to perfect. Perfect would be her and- "Argh! Why can't he stay out of my head!"

"Who Christine?"

"_The Angel of Music sings songs in my head."_ Christine sang quietly repeating it louder once more. "It seems no matter where I go, he follows me."

"Christine when you said you wrote poetry- what did you write about."

Christine blushed, shaking her head as her brown locks flung out as emphasis and giggled.

"Not him!" Meg cried out shocked.

"About the rose, the music, his mask, him." Together they both laughed until someone cleared their throat. "Madame Giry, where have you been? I have seen the nicest view from the rooftops and- Madame Giry, what is it?"

"It seems someone else enjoyed the view up on the roof top as well." Madame Giry said slowly as she held out the greatest gift that Christine could have ever imagined. A rose tied with a black silk ribbon. Eagerly Christine reached out to take it, only to recoil as drops of blood now formed on her hand. He had left the thorns on the rose- something he had never done before. "He welcomes you to his opera house and has given you permission to sing. But he will not train you nor single you out any longer, though he does demand that as a payback for his teaching, you must audition for _every_ opera and accept _each part_ given to you. He also requests for you to not try and see him, or he will be angry if you do. I'm sorry my dear." Christine bit her lip. This was the price she had to pay. She had broken her chains to the Phantom and now they were dangled precariously at the verge of crumbling into dust.

"I understand, Madame. Tell him that I accept his terms and that I will sing when he requires me to."

"You may tell him yourself child, he is in the theatre at this moment."


	3. Chapter 3

Christine could not believe her ears. _Her Angel was waiting for her?_ Nodding quickly, she dashed off in the direction of the stage, eager to once more be in his favor. The silence was even louder than before, and she knew that he was here. Ignoring the rows of seats, she pretended to have not noticed the masked occupant in Box 5.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she thought about which song would most likely affect her Angel so that he would at least respond. And then it came to her.

_Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said good bye. _

_Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try._

_When you find that once again you long, to take your heart back and be free._

_If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me._

Opening them she glanced at Box 5 and was startled to find it empty. Had he finally left her when she needed him most? Or was it just her imagination that had played tricks on her earlier? Then finally a voice that she had longed to hear for eleven months, answered her prayers.

_Wandering child . . .  
so lost . . .  
so helpless . . .  
yearning for my  
guidance . . . _

_Too long you've wandered  
in winter . . ._

_Far from my  
far-reaching gaze . . ._

It was like old times. Christine smiled softly as she closed her eyes, singing her part of the song (AN: the parenthesis is the Phantom from now on _(words)_, but if it looks like this: _-words-_ then it is both together; without dashes or parenthesis is Christine):

_Wildly my mind  
beats against you . . ._

_(You resist . . .)_

_-Yet your/the soul obeys . . .-_

_Angel of Music!  
Guide and guardian!  
Grant to me your  
glory!  
Angel of Music!  
Hide no longer!  
Come to me, strange  
angel...  
(I am your Angel ...  
Come to me: Angel of Music ...)_

_In sleep he sang to me,  
in dreams he came . . .  
that voice which calls to me  
and speaks my name . . .  
_

_And do I dream again?  
For now I find  
the Phantom of the Opera  
is there - inside my mind . . .  
_

_(Sing once again with me  
our strange duet . . .  
My power over you  
grows stronger yet . . .  
And though you turn from me,  
to glance behind,  
the Phantom of the Opera  
is there: inside your mind . . .)  
_

_Those who have seen your face  
draw back in fear . . .  
I am the mask you wear . . .  
(It's me they hear . . .)  
-Your/my spirit and your/my voice,  
in one combined:  
the Phantom of the Opera  
is there inside your/my mind . . .-  
_

_(In all your fantasies,  
you always knew  
that man and mystery . . .)  
. . . were both in you . . .  
_

_-And in this labyrinth,  
where night is blind,  
the Phantom of the Opera  
is there/here inside your/my mind . . .-  
Sing, my Angel of Music! _

_He's there,  
the Phantom of the Opera . . ._

Opening her eyes before she began the runs, she realized that the Phantom was standing right next to her. Glancing at him, she started the runs ending the song completely.

"That was very good Mademoiselle Daae. But not good enough. I see you have not been practicing." The Phantom said dryly, though anger burned in his eyes.

"There was no need for me to practice Ang- monsieur, I did not perform, and I had no teacher."

He glared at her, his eyes glaring down at her brown ones. "You had no teacher because you left me!"

"No monsieur! I left because you pushed me into the arms of another man!" She yelled back at him just as loud. He looked startled at first, as she had never really shouted back at him. But then another thought irked his mind.

"Yet you and your lover sang your horrid duet." He spat out. "Explain that!"

"That was not me Sir, _that_ was Raoul and Meg!" He looked at her once more as if trying to see if she told the truth or not.

"Yet she knew the song?"

"I fed her the words. If you had just listened to me before… _this _would not have happened! Monsieur I must bid you good night now, before I say or do anything I will later regret to have done." She began to walk away until she heard him sing again.

_Stranger than you think it -  
can you even dare to look  
or talk nor think of me:  
this loathsome man of death, who  
burns in hell, but secretly  
yearns for heaven,  
secretly . . .  
secretly . . .  
But, Christine . . .  
Fear can Turn to love - you'll  
learn to see, to find the man  
behind the monster: this . . .  
repulsive carcass, who  
seems a beast, but secretly  
dreams of beauty,  
secretly . . .  
secretly . . .  
Oh, Christine . . ._

She looked back at him as he stared at her, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Monsieur there you are wrong: I found the man behind the monster, I rescued you from your hell and took you into my heaven. But I fear I may have lost the man I loved to the darkness once more." she said coldly before leaving the stage. He stood there in anger, oblivious to the fact that Christine had practically proclaimed her love for him.

"Christine, if you do not come back with me, if you do not at least stay to hear me out- I will lose you. I will find a new student, a new protégé, and you will be like the rest of them."

Tears of anger sprung into her eyes. "If I was like the rest of them Monsieur, then I would not have come back to you, and I would have left you the moment I had removed the mask from your face! If you were still my Angel, _good Monsieur, _then I doubt I would be leaving. I now leave because of your actions. But you are not the Phantom I thought you were. Or maybe I was wrong the whole time. Maybe you were a man who wanted pity instead of love." She said as she began to walk away. He sprang at her then and tackled her near the end of the stage.

"Vicomtessa, when will we have the pleasure of seeing your dear Vicomte de Chagny?" he said tauntingly in her ear as she struggled against him. _That did it_.

"I am _not_ married to him!" she hissed as she kicked against him. "I am Christine _Daae_, Sir, please do not mistake my identity any longer. I will sing in your theatre, I will perform in your theatre. But _do not_ presume me to be someone that I am not!" With that she stormed off and back to Madame Giry's room. But his song floated behind her, the song _he_ had written for _her_:

_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness wakes, and stirs imagination. Silently the senses, abandons their defenses, helpless to resist the notes I write. For I compose the Music of the Night. _

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Hearing is believing, music is deceiving. Hard as lightning, soft as candle light. Dare you trust the Music of the Night._

_Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth. And the truth isn't what you want to see. In the dark it is easy to pretend. That the truth is what it ought to be._

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Fear it, feel it, secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind. In this darkness which you know you cannot fight. The darkness of the Music of the Night._

_Close your eyes, start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before. Close your eyes and let music set you free! Only then can you belong to me. _

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write. The Power of the Music._

_You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the Music of the Night._

_Christine! Christine! _

Christine closed her eyes as tears cam down her face. _God no, she had to be strong, she had to show him who he was dealing with_. No longer would she run into the arms of a man when told to.

"You cannot remind others of the past my Angel of Music," she said aloud, "And you cannot expect those you pushed away to return so quickly." Suddenly shaking she whispered to herself, "I need time- and then maybe I will be able to save you once more."


	4. Chapter 4

No one could sleep that night, not with the furious pounding of the organ played below the Opera Populaire. They all knew what had happened: Miss Daae had returned, and with her she brought back problem from the past. The managers were confused. The Phantom had sent another note, one that insisted for them to run _Don Juan Triumphant_ for the last time and for Christine to play Amanita. La Carlotta had not yet returned from Italy which was probably a good thing, as the managers were worried that she would permanently leave if she found out who the new patron was. Yet everyone was restless- no one thought that it would be a good idea for the season to start off with that opera. So the Phantom once more wrote again, this time suggesting a masquerade grander than the one from the year before. Though everyone was overjoyed at the thought of the Masquerade, one person was terrified about _Don Juan_…

"You don't think he'll- well you know what I mean Madame Giry." Christine said pale when she heard that she once more would play the same role.

"I do not know child, though I do know that you should not have left him in that state of mind last night. Who knows what would have happened had a certain de Chagny decided to see you at the beginning of this season." Madame Giry said carefully. "So he is not coming to make advance towards you I hope?"

Christine broke into a smile. "Oh no, definitely not for me- this time he's after Meg."

"Does _he_ know of the arrival?" Madame Giry asked frowning. _That girl had better watch her step before The Phantom finds himself back in the past._ Christine flinched. Madame Giry sighed, though her mind was quickly forming a plan for the two to return together before the masquerade. "You might as well go tell him. You know how to get there."

Christine frowned. "Actually Madame, I don't."

_The lair was a mess. The Phantom had stayed awake all night, composing away, crossing things out- all for a new opera; all for her. Yet she had not come. Was he wrong about her? Or was what she said true: she just needed time? Only time would tell him. The rustle of water brought him back to his senses, as he realized that there was an intruder. It was not Madame Giry, for she would have announced herself long ago. _

"_My favorite memory here was near the end, you know. Before you made me leave with him." her soft voice drifted around the underground home, as she walked towards him. She had come to him._

"_And when would that be Miss Daae? When you were forced to wear the gown, or when I had that boy strung around the neck?" The Phantom sneered, waiting for a comeback. But there was none. Christine looked at him sadly._

"_No. It was when I kissed you." She said tiredly. A shiver ran through his spin. Was she saying that- no that was impossible. Only the blind could love someone as treacherous as him._

_He put down the music score he had been working on. "And why is that Christine?" he purred, "Was it to prove that you were stronger than me? Or because you know that no one could have possibly made me that weak?"_

_She ran over to him and place a hand on his shoulder, yet he still hadn't looked at her. Calmly she cupped his chin and slowly looked into his eyes. "It was because I loved you."_

_Christine could tell that he was surprised as his eyes widened just a little bit. "Loved" he laughed harshly, "As in no longer? What Miss Daae, have you found a lover so quickly?" At that moment he regretted his choice of words as her voice became cold and bitter._

"_No, you're just not the Phantom I used to know. You've changed, you're not as- as you were before. You never took no for an answer, and now you compromise? You should have taken me down here last night- you give up too easily, monsieur. And that's what I mean be loved. I'll wait until the man I knew behind the mask has returned." She began to walk away from him, wishing that he would swoop down on her and kiss her. But he was still frozen in place by her harsh words. Madam Giry was right, he is not the Phantom anymore, just a man. That man of mystery has left me forever. But maybe there is a way to bring him back…" By the way monsieur, I have a visitor coming today, so I do hope that you will treat him with the respect he deserves." With a loud curse he ran after her, and pushed her against a wall._

"_That boy is coming here? To my theatre house? Why?" He snapped as Christine tried so hard not to laugh. But there was no stopping Christine as she let out a small giggle._

"_Madame Giry was right, rivalry can bring the Phantom back." she said happily, while the Opera Ghost trapped her against the wall searching for a truth. "He is here to see Meg, that is all. I promise teacher I will only say a quick hello. Though I do suggest for you to pay your own respects to him."_

"_And since when am I your teacher once more Miss Daae?"_

"_Since you showed your jealousy once again. It seems that Madame Giry knows you a lot better then you think."_

_The Phantom grinned. "So it seems. Why else did you come down here may I ask, for it seems you will not be leaving for sometime."_

_Christine shyly looked up at him. "I was wondering if you would- erm… sing for me." she said quietly. He stared at her for a moment before laughing out loud. This was the bold girl from last night? The girl who had yelled at him?_

"_And what song would mademoiselle wish me to sing?"_

_She hesitated for a moment. "The song you sang me when I fist came down here. If that would be okay."_

_Silently, he lead her over to the organ, his cape billowing out behind him, Christine's eyes glazed over. She knew this would happen- she knew that she would once more be his. Yet she didn't care, she loved him and she would do whatever it took to get him back. As he began to play the organ, she watched him, doing whatever the song told her to do._

_Night-time sharpens,  
heightens each sensation . . .  
Darkness stirs and  
wakes imagination . . .  
Silently the senses  
abandon their defences . . .  
Slowly, gently  
night unfurls its splendour . . .  
Grasp it, sense it -  
tremulous and tender . . .  
Turn your face away  
from the garish light of day,  
turn your thoughts away  
from cold, unfeeling light -  
and listen to  
the music of the night . . .  
Close your eyes  
and surrender to your  
darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts  
of the life  
you knew before!  
Close your eyes,  
let your spirit  
start to soar!  
And you'll live  
as you've never  
lived before . . .  
Softly, deftly,  
music shall surround you . . .  
Feel it, hear it,  
closing in around you . . .  
Open up your mind,  
let your fantasies unwind,  
in this darkness which  
you know you cannot fight -  
the darkness of  
the music of the night . . .  
Let your mind  
start a journey through a  
strange new world!  
Leave all thoughts  
of the world  
you knew before!  
Let your soul  
Take you where you  
long to be !  
Only then  
can you belong  
to me . . .  
Floating, falling,  
sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me  
savor each sensation!  
Let the dream begin,  
let your darker side give in  
to the power of the music that I write -  
the power of the music of the night . . ._

_You alone can make my song take flight -  
help me make the music of the night . ._

_She opened her eyes slowly to find her Angel watching her shakily._

_Angel of Music!  
I denied you,  
turning from true beauty . . .  
Angel of Music!  
My protector . . .  
Come to me, strange  
Angel . . ._

_She ran a hand over his cheek, as he closed his eyes leaning in to her touch. Slowly, she traced the outline of the traditional white mask he always wore. Carefully, she began to pry the mask off of his face as he began to shake uncontrollably. When it was finally off, they seemed to stare at each other for ages until she finally ran a hand down the deformed side of his perfect face._

"_Christine. Oh Christine. Why do you do this to me?" He muttered to himself, as he drew her into an embrace. "Why do you hurt me so, yet you bring light into my darkness?" he said huskily in her ear. She shivered as she seemed to smile in triumph. This was her Angel of Music. He had finally come back to her._

"_My Angel, it is only because you are part of my soul that I returned. And now I have you back." Christine replied softly. Then she drew away. "And now I must go upstairs to greet my childhood friend." She added with dry humor. He scowled. "Angel come please?"_

_His frown deepened. "I am no longer an Angel of Music. Always the devil burning in hell."_

"_Then I shall help you become who you were before. I will bring you back to the light, and I will be the one to shed your darkness. Now come with me monsieur for I must depart from here." She said playfully. He nodded, not speaking as he still watched her. So beautiful an Angel of Music who has come to help the Angel of Darkness- no not Angel, a Devil. Following her silently into the boat, they made their way across the dark waters, both in silence, yet both thinking of each other..._

"Monsieur Phantom, are you here, or are you somewhere in the rafters?" A voice awoke him from his dream. _Wait, his dream?_ Groaning the Phantom found that he had somehow managed to be in Christine's swan bed. The curtain slowly began to ascend to the ceiling, startling the Phantom out of his wits. And there standing in front of him was _his_ Christine. No not his- not anymore he reminded himself.

"If I remember correctly,Mademoiselle Daae, I own this theatre, which means you have no right to wake me from my quiet slumber." He stated calmly, though inside he was trembling for the want of this woman.

Her brow furrowed from annoyance. "Oh so we're on proper terms now, huh? Well then good Sir, I just came to inform you that I will have a visitor today, and I hope that you will not embarrass me in front of him. He is a good friend, and I haven't seen him for a while." was her cool response. He flinched at her icy words_. Wait a minute... a good friend_?

He snarled as he leaped up from the bed. "You had better not mean that-_that _boy!" he spat out. That did it, rising Christine into a fury.

"Yes monsieur_, that _boy. I did not know that I had to have a permission slip for him to come and visit. Good _day _Monsieur!" She said as she strode away from his lair and into one of the many passages leading to the main floor. The Phantom sunk to the floor as he realized that once more he had lit her fury, that he should have pushed her against the wall as he had in his dream, and that some dreams really _did_ come true- well half of the time anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

How he had wound up in the managers' office he didn't know. But Raoul found himself in awkward silence with Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Fermin. Monsieur Fermin cleared his throat. "So I presume that Mademoiselle Daae knew of your arrival?" he asked.

"Yes. But I was also here to once more extend my patronage, the Opera Populaire. That was one thing that Christine did not know. Do you know where she is?" Raoul asked nervously. But before anyone could answer, the door flung open revealing Christine.

"Raoul, you came! When did you arrive? I hope that you did not have to wait long for me. I had to go see _another old friend_. I think you know him: our patron the Phantom of the Opera." Christine said cheerfully elaborating on the word patron.

"Him? The new patron? The man who caused so much trouble in my theatre." Raoul said as he began to chuckle but then his features became serious once more as he realized that no one else thought that _that_ was funny at all. He sighed in annoyance. "Christine, may I talk to you for a moment _alone_?" he asked her quietly, his eyes begging for her ascent. She gave a brief nod but that was all Raoul needed before he ran, dragging Christine up the stairs towards the roof.

"Raoul what is it? Why did you take me here? I thought you came to visit Meg?" Christine said nervously.

"I didn't come to see her, Christine, I cam here to see _you_. I can't pretend all this time to have feelings for Mademoiselle Giry. I still love you. Come with me Christine, leave this place forever and stay with _me_! I can give you more than that monster ever could!" Raoul tried his best to embrace Christine but her struggles loosened his grasp.

"No Raoul, you're wrong- and I learned that the hard way. You could give me safety and you could give me a home and maybe even a family. But you could never give me what the Phantom gave me. He gave me his spirit and love. And I gave him mine. You could never give me the passion that he gives me. My song could never soar if I was with you. I love him: deformation or not." Christine firmly stated.

Raoul growled, not wanting to face the truth. "You were mine from the start Christine Daae, and you shall be mine until the end!" He declared before swooping down and capturing her lips with his own. She struggled for a moment then pushed him away but not before slapping him.

"It is not the Phantom's soul that is twisted Raoul- it is your own!" Before she knew what had happened she was on the ground clutching to her bloodied nose in shock that it was Raoul who had hit her. "Angel!" she screamed out as Raoul made another move towards her. He stiffened as he saw another shadow behind his own. Whirling around, he came face to face with the Phantom of the Opera, his sword drawn, his eyes like flames of fire.

"Christine, go inside unless you want to see the Chagny boy's death." Christine whimpered regretting that she had called out to her teacher. Raoul would probably die, she knew unless…

"Angel do not kill him, please do not. As long as he stays away from me- just let him live." She cried out as the Phantom took out his Punjab lasso.

He winced and looked at her for a moment, before putting it away. Then before anyone could move, he drew Raoul by the collar and hissed at him, "If you _ever_ harm her again, I assure you, your blood will spill from my hands- with or without Christine's presence." Pushing him away, he looked at Christine. "Christine, I am _not_ your Angel." he said quietly. Sobbing, she ran away from him and left as with a swirl of his cloak the Phantom of the Opera was gone, leaving Raoul on the roof top still in shock.

"Christine, Christine! Do you know where Raoul is? I haven't seen him yet!" Meg asked as she saw Christine alone. The Phantom had left her minutes before sensing someone coming their way. He had left her with his usual gift of a _thornless_ rose tied with black ribbon without a word exchanged between them. Was this his way of apology?

"Umm… Meg, he-" Christine was divided, not knowing what to say. "He had to go and…" she trailed off at the expression of sadness on her friend's face. "Meg, I'm sorry. I really am- I did try."

Meg broke down into tears at those words. "He said he loved me, Christine! I really thought he did!" she said as Christine drew her into an embrace.

"So did I Meg," she said quietly, "So did I."

The managers had no idea what had been happening in the opera house. All they knew was that Raoul had stormed into their office some time after his talk with Christine and stated that he would become a patron once again. Neither dared to disagree with him, since he was so wealthy, yet they did fear the Phantom's wrath.

"We will see Monsieur Chagny, but we must talk about that with our present patron." Monsieur Andre said as strong as he could- though inside he was fearful of the Opera Populaire's future. With a nod, Raoul left their office with a slam of the door.

Monsieur Fermin sank into a chair. "Andre, we should have just stayed in the junk business." he muttered.

"_Scrap Metal_,Fermin, scrap metal."

The Opera Ghost paused for a moment before he began to play the accompaniment to the song he had written for both of them...

_You have come here in pursuit of  
your deepest urge, in pursuit of  
that wish, which till now  
has been silent, silent . . .  
I have brought you, that our passions  
may fuse and merge -  
in your mind you've already  
succumbed to me dropped all defenses  
completely succumbed to me -  
now you are here with me:  
no second thoughts,  
you've decided, decided . . .  
_

"I never could give you my true answer could I?" a quiet voice said behind him. He whirled around angrily only to find Christine behind him, staring at the music as if it was the most interesting thing she had seen all day.

"Christine, why are you here?" he sighed. He didn't want to pain himself any longer- he just wanted to hold her close. But until he knew the true reasons why she had started chaos since she had stepped inside his theater, he would not relent.

Tears formed into her eyes. "Do you have to ask that? Do you don't know how much it hurts me for you to say that." Grimly he looked at his music, the music that he had written for her, and pretended to fix an error he had found while he thought of a way to pain her.

"Christine I- I am over you now. I couldn't keep on hoping for you to come back to me. I've learned how to become cold once again." he said staring at the floor. He knew he wouldn't have been able to say that to her face.

"Tell me then."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what you just said to my face. Then I'll believe you." Christine said quietly meeting his golden eyes with her own brown ones. He looked at her not believing what she had just said. But he knew how to outdo her. Looking at a unusually interesting patch of darkness that was right behind her, he repeated what he had said before.

Christine slapped him, trembling with fury. _How dare he! _How dare he act like that when she had come back for him! She wanted a reaction from him, she wanted to see the fires of passion once more burning in his eyes, for him to take her away from this place and somewhere where they would never be bothered again. But most of all she wanted _him_.

And yet all he did was calmly place a hand on his unmasked side and calmly ask, "So Miss Daae, what exactly did you come down here for?" No reaction to her actions, nothing. Maybe he was not the man he once was. Maybe what Madame Giry had been right when she told Christine that the Phantom's spirit had been broken because of her betrayal.

"I came to- to ask for lessons again. _Because Monsieur Reyers said to_. He said that I was going flat again and that the passion in my voice that I had when I first arrived back was gone. And I- I'll pay too." Christine said. He walked towards her, leaning into her face.

"And is that the _only_ reason Miss Daae? Or is there another reason for you to want lessons? Especially from me?"

"Well you are the best!" Christine said a façade of cheerfulness hiding her sadness. But maybe there was a way to get a reaction out of him. "Or _was_ anyway. Who knows if you still are?" Her former Angel of Music growled in response. And she chose to ignore it. "But never mind. It doesn't matter anyway. I can always go and hire a vocal teacher, or..." she trailed off, for a moment so that he would also get the idea, "or I can go somewhere else where there is a vocal teacher. I just need some more training anyway. It shouldn't really matter where I sing, _and_ wherever I go, there may just be another Angelo of Music." The Phantom of the Opera scowled at her suggestion.

"After all that we've been through," he spat venomously, "after all that we've done _together_!" Forcing himself to calm down he tried to reason with her. "You seem to forget, Mademoiselle Daae, that YOU are under contract for one season. You cannot break that." he said trying to show her the truth of his words.

"I can't stay here! Can't you see that?" she was about to move towards the boat when she heard the Phantom's voice call out.

"Wait! At least stay for the Masquerade and one opera." He waited patiently, knowing she would agree.

"Fine. But one opera, the masquerade and then that's it." She shook him on it. "What opera are we doing by the way?"

He smirked knowing that he had power that he had not had before. "We will be redoing _Don Juan Triumphant_- with a few changes in the script and choreography." He drawled out waiting for her reaction. He had hoped that it would have been a happy one, since he knew that she knew that it would be he once more as the leading male, and she the leading female.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and for once the Phantom thought that for once, she was giving in. But when she opened her eyes again, the Phantom realized that they were full of tears. "How could you? After all of this and you- and- " she couldn't take it anymore as she grimly told herself to not cry. Not in front of _him_. Crumpling to the floor, her tears broke out and through her blurry eyes, saw the Phantom's eyes up close and studying her intently.

Hesitating he drew her into his arms trying his best to console her. "Shhh... calm down. What is this all about Christine? Do you really think that your tears will move me?" he sighed as she continued to cry. "Why not just go back to your handsome Vicomte, I'm sure he'll forget everything and welcome you back with open arms." Christine recoiled from him. And stood up as more tears rolled down her face.

"How could you! How could you even think to bring _that man_ up at a time like this? Madame Giry was right. You're not who I thought you were. You never were. If so you wouldn't let this happen."

His next words were a slap on the face. "Let what happen Mademoiselle? There are many other beautiful girls here with a voice that could be as good as yours. Maybe even better."

Letting out a cry of outrage she ran towards the boat. Ignoring the cries of her beloved Angel of Music, she rowed the boat away from his home of music and into the shadows of the water.


	6. Chapter 6

The rehearsals had just been a run through of previous arias, just to keep everyone's voices intact while the Phantom had been making his descision. Christine sighed as everyone gave her looks. Thankfully none had heard her crying through the night, except for Meg. But everyone could tell by the dark smudges that today would not be the best day for her. And to top it off, news was going around that the Phantom had accepted _another _Vicomte's offer of patronage; probably not Raoul. As the chorus girls began their ballet warm- ups, Christine stared at them wistfully until finally Monsieur Reyers was able to get her attention.

"Ah… Mademoiselle Daae, if you would please. The other patron has arrived and requests to hear our diva."

"I'm sorry Monsieur Reyers, I was just- reliving the past." she got up with a smile as the director gave her a silent 'thank you.' If it had been La Carlotta in her place, Monsieur Reyers would have had a hard time in getting her to cooperate.

"Your aria is laid out for you mademoiselle, the Phantom insisted that you sing this."

_Probably from his opera_. She sighed annoyingly. But a glance at the music proved to her that she was wrong. Looking up at Box 5, she saw the glimmer of his white mask, and then it was gone. _Oh so he wants to play it like that does he?_ A man sat in the fifth row, staring at her awestruck. A man with longish black hair and green eyes. "Monsieur Reyers, is that the new patron?" she asked. He looked around and finally spotting the man nodded. Hesitantly, she smiled at him as the music began. Closing her eyes, she tried to put herself back in the Phantom's lair- with just him and the music.

_Think of me  
think of me fondly,  
when we've said goodbye.  
Remember me  
once in a while -  
please promise me  
you'll try._

Just her and him and the music... wait... _him_...

Her voice trembled as she thought of the man who had let her soul take flight, while her dreams also soared. Her throat caught. Recovering quickly she saw the looks that both Monsieur Reyers and the Phantom had given her. The man had frowned. She kept continuing, this time looking up at the Phantom, and at that time he knew that her heart was breaking...

_When you find  
that, once  
again, you long  
to take your heart back  
and be free -  
if you  
ever find a moment,  
spare a thought  
for me  
_

The Phantom of the Opera knew that this had been a grave error on his side. He could hear it in her voice. She had given up. The look she had given him told it all: he had won. But she would leave, and in that gain a win herself. He wouldn't be able to lose her again.

_We never said our love  
was evergreen,  
or as unchanging  
as the sea -  
but if you can still  
remember  
stop and think  
of me . . .  
_

_The Angel of Music sings songs in my head. _Why is it, she thought, that I must always have so much pain? First my mother, then my father and now I lose my Angel as well?

_Think of all the things  
we've shared and seen -  
don't think about the things  
which might have been . . .  
_

_Think of me,  
think of me waking,  
silent and resigned.  
Imagine me,  
trying too hard  
to put you from my mind.  
Recall those days  
look back on all those times,  
think of the things  
we'll never do -  
there will never be  
a day, when  
I won't think  
of you . ._

And that's when it happened: when the memories of her and him and then The Kiss. Him stealing Piangi's part just to sing for once with her. Her vocal training- it all came back to her. her voice choked up as she suddenly collapsed, her body trembling. She curled up into a ball for a moment then wearily tried to stand up. People rushed to her from all directions, but she only looked up. at him. but he wasn't there. he was- gone?

"Christine are you all right?" Everyone kept asking her. The faces spun, blurring into colors.

"Madame Giry." was all she could say. A face peered into hers. A flash of white. And then she saw no more.

Yeah I know it's really short and crap but my head hurts... and I thought that was a pretty good spot to end so ciao


	7. Chapter 7

"Christine, Christine? Can you hear me?" the woman's voice seemed to bring Christine back to her senses. She didn't seem to respond until finally, her eyes began to flutter open and she moaned as her head was in pain. Madame Giry sighed. Today was going to be a long day for her. Already the new patron wanted to meet her, concerned for her safety and after that the Opera Ghost would want to see Christine. She frowned just thinking about it.

"Madame Giry?" the girl quietly asked, "Is he mad?" They both knew who she meant, but for now Madame Giry didn't want to answer.

"The new patron would like to see you Christine. It seems he is rather curious about you. But do not let him get to you. He is known for his harsh reasoning, so watch what you say." Christine got up from her bed rather dazed still from the incident.

"And what about the Angel? Is he upset?"

"It does not seem wise to call him your Angel of music at the moment, Christine, you might just want to stick with his normal title. And I have a feeling he has told you this before as well." Christine bit her lip, annoyed. This wasn't supposed to happen! If it wasn't for her and her weak emotions, she could have made it through the song. "The new patron will see you now." she said as she opened the door, revealing the new patron.

When he had seen her on the stage he was amazed- _this_ was the famous girl who had stolen the legendary Phantom's heart. When she began to sing, he knew that this would be _his_ wife. He would marry her and she would be a famous diva. He had heard the stories of how Raoul would not have let her sing anymore had Christine married him. But he had his heart stolen by her. And now he would take hers. Together they would travel around the world where man would beg to hear her voice. He would not make the same mistakes that the _other_ Vicomte had made.

"Miss Daae, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

Christine smiled. "Yes I'm okay now Monsieur..." she trailed off not knowing his name.

"Ah, forgive me. Maxwell de Wittin, Vicomte of Groseburgh." He said taking her hand and making a deep bow after kissing her hand.

"No formalities here Monsieur, you may call me Christine if you so wish." she replied calmly, though her heart was thudding in her ribcage.

"Well Christine, you have an exquisite voice. Very... angelic." She seemed to pause for a moment, even shrink back. Before politely smiling. A whisper in the wind seemed to tickle his ears, and she hesitated again, glancing over at the mirror, before looking back at him. "Would you like to have lunch? I could call the carriage and we could be back here by then start of the mid- day rehearsal."

"Thank you monsieur. I am obliged. But if you will excuse me, I suddenly feel as if I could use a nap. Please tell the managers that I will join them for the later." He looked at her for a moment, concerned, before nodding as he walked out of her dressing room closing the door. Hurriedly she locked it. "I know you're there, Monsieur Phantome. You can come out from the mirror." For a moment it seemed as if he had left, but then the mirror slid open, revealing the Phantom as he realized that he had been caught.

"Well Christine, it seems as if your senses have sharpened. Now why did you allow him to enter your dressing room? Why not go out and greet him?" he asked annoyed.

"My apologies monsieur, to have aggravated you but I am not well at the moment. Besides you are not my teacher anymore. Nor are you my guardian- nor I your ward. And so with who I talk to, and what I do with them is no longer any of your concern. Now if you would please leave me, I _would_ like my rest." he grabbed her and stared right into her eyes.

"But you are _mine_. You put yourself under my wings, I taught you, and I am your patron." he spat out.

"You are not my patron Monsieur Le Phantome, you are the _Opera Populaire's_." Christine shot back. "And how can I be yours if you do not love me? Monsieur seemed to be glorified by my existence, he said I had the voice of an Angel." she said proudly. He scowled then: had it been a mistake to accept another Vicomte? Would the story just start all over again?

"A voice_ I_ trained and created." he hissed.

"But without me there would be no voice monsieur. You once said that the voice takes flight when the soul is happy. Do you still agree with those words?" He looked at her for a moment.

"I considered your request from before Christine. If - if you are unhappy here, you may leave whenever. I should not be the one to keep you imprisoned- again." He turned as if to leave back through the trap door.

"Actually Monsieur, I will stay to our agreed time- one opera and the masquerade."

"Why the sudden change of mind?" he asked slyly. He wanted to hear the words of love come out of her mouth.

Christine smiled. "It'll look good on my resume. Besides I need a jumpstart in my career so that they know that Mademoiselle Daae has returned to the theatre circles. There are many nice opera houses, I hear, in Italy. I hear that is where La Carlotta is. Maybe we shall switch places. I know she loved this building more than I ever will." She said simply as she watched him for a reaction and it seemed that he had deflated. But she would remain strong.

"Not for anyone in this building? Not even me?" he asked cautiously.

"I will not be tossed from man to man like a play thing." she said quietly. "I am no one's and shall remain like that until I can see that someone loves me- and not for my voice."

"Why is it that you deny everything, Christine? Why will you not accept what will come to be."

"Because what is the point of loving someone, Monsieur, when it is not returned."

He held her close for a moment, barely inches away from her face. Softly with a gloved hand, he traced the outline of her cheekbones and drew her loose hair behind her ear. "I could have given you the world of Opera. Together no one would have denied us.

She took a step back, already feeling faint. "It is a shame, Monsieur Le Phantome. It truly is a shame that playing the role of a seductor is so easy for you. No one could ever know the truth behind your words.

He hissed at her. "Then you are blind. Let it be war upon us both." He said before slamming the mirror closed.

She knew she had said the wrong thing. And it was too much for her to handle. Trembling, she collapsed onto the floor. "Madame- Gi...ry." she said trying to call out. Someone pounded on the door, Then she remembered that she had locked it. She saw a cloak of black, and then sank into darkness.

Wow he hit her hard with emotional abuse. I think this is the one time where I needed to show his anger. I'm soo sorry though EC lovers (cuz I'm one too) but it had to be done.


	8. Chapter 8

An organ woke her as a sad tune was played on the keys. Her head hurt too much. Groaning she found herself in the swan bed of red velvet- then suddenly seemed to realize where she was: the Phantom's lair. Closing her eyes, she began lightly tapping her head against the bed frame. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She thought to herself. But she'd have to face the music either way. Grimacing, she pulled the curtain away and saw him sitting there working on a new piece of music. It was just like the old times.

And there he was. Drawing the curtain she could see his heart pouring into the rich velvet sound that poured from the organ.

Hearing movement, he turned around to find Christine watching him. He put down the music score that he had been working on and beckoned to her. "Come here Christine." She dutifully crossed the lair, up the stairs and to the organ. She watched him for a minute while he searched around in a wooden trunk, until he brought out several sheets of paper. Shuffling them in some sort- of order, he turned around and handed her the sheets, then just watched her. She studied the music and bit back a grin; he had given her the old vocal warm ups and a few arias. He began a scale and automatically she began. Here her voice cracked, and he frowned: it sounded like an improved La Carlotta.

"You are either trying to anger me, or you have really forgotten what I've taught you! Look at your stance! Let us begin from the basics." Standing up from the bench he went behind her and pulled her body into his, and he had to clench his jaw to stop from hissing from pleasure. She was a perfect fit to his own body, as she molded into him, she let out a small whimper as his gloved hands slowly ran down her front: from the bottom of her breasts down to her diaphragm. Slowly she drew in a breath and it felt like taking in a breath for the first time after drowning in water for so long. "Now this is how you breathe. Do not forget this again." He said murmuring into her ear as she leaned back against him. But almost as suddenly as he was there, the next second he was gone and taking his seat in front of the organ, his fingers once more playing the warm- ups. Taking in a breath she began to sing like she had before the commotion and arguments. Before Raoul came and entered her life again.

He closed his eyes. This is what he missed. Her voice and himself coaching her. Like the old times. Finishing the warm up scales, she glanced down at the first song. One that she had sung for practice.

_I have never felt like this  
For once I'm lost for words  
Your smiles has really thrown me.  
This is not like me at all  
I never thought I'd know  
The kind of love you've shown me. _

_Now, no matter where I am  
No matter what I do  
I see your face appearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing_

_I don't know what's going on  
Can't work it out at all  
Whatever made you choose me?  
I just can't believe my eyes  
You look at me as though  
You couldn't bare to lose me._

_Now, no matter where I am  
No matter what I do  
I see your face appearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing_

_I have never felt like this  
For once I'm lost for words  
Your smiles has really thrown me.  
This is not like me at all  
I never thought I'd know  
The kind of love you've shown me._

_Now no matter where I am  
No matter what I do  
I see your face appearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing_

"Third page, second staff, fourth measure- you were two beats off. And fourth page, third staff and fifth measure- you were…" This went on past the early evening rehearsal and finally they came to the last song. She looked at the title and shook her head.

"I'm not singing this." she said quietly. "This is the wrong time to sing this." she said motioning to the title of the song: The Duet from _Don Juan Triumphant_. "I'll sing it another day- but not today."

"Christine, when you are up on stage, can you choose which songs you want to perform in an opera?" she shook her head. "Then stop complaining." He began to play the introduction, when Christine rested a hand on his arm.

"Please, don't. Not right now. It's the wrong time." she pleaded him. He hesitated then moved his fingers away from the keys, then turned back to the trunk and rummaged before he took out another score of music. This one was folded, and the paper looked faded as if it hadn't been read for a while. He tossed it to her carelessly, and she clumsily caught the paper. Opening it, she stared at itconfused. This wasn't one of the songs... wait...

"Do you recognize it?" he asked her quietly, not looking in Christine's direction.

"It's the song that- I sang at my father's grave. When you an-" she stopped suddenly. His gaze seemed to bore into hers. "I have been stupid. I've been foolish. I need-" she stopped again.

"What do you need Christine? The Vicomte? The new patron? Who? Or is it that Raoul is still your lover?" the Phantom said angered. he demanded answers!

"I need to visit my father's grave." she said quietly. He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, you will give me answers that I need. I will not risk losing you again." he said hoarsely. "I need to know _everything_ from that night to when you arrived. I will not be toyed with, Christine."

She looked at him. "All right." She sat down next to him on the bench, as she began her story. "When he began to..."

I sat there in the boat watching Raoul as he steered the gondola in the right direction. Looking around, I seemed to be hearing voices in my head, and then I saw two figures emerging from the mist. It was Meg and Madame Giry. "Raoul, stop the gondola. We can all escape together." he nodded at this, as he seemed to be concentrating on steering the gondola once again towards the side. As Meg and Madame fussed about, I watched Raoul, as he seemed to be busy trying to help Meg get comfortable. That's when something struck me deep in the heart:

_I could never love this man as much as I loved my Angel of Music._

But how to break the news? How to end an engagement that I had thrown myself into, happy to see my childhood friend...

_This is wrong!_

I tried to ignore the voice in my head but it grew louder, persisting each time...

_You should be back there with the Phantom! You should have stayed behind_

Angrily, I began to have a debate with myself:

_this is wrong..._

I owe him for rescuing me though...

_it's still wrong._

but I love Raoul right?

_as a friend... but the Phantom..._

Stop this! I made my descision! I can't return! _He'll_ think I was weak!

_No! You love that Angel! _You_ would do anything for him and you know that!_

"Stop!" I screeched, clamping my hands over my ears, not knowing that I had spoken out loud. All three of them looked at me quizzically. I began trembling violently. _This was wrong I shouldn't be here..._ "Raoul, I can't do this. I can't marry you."

"What!" anger was laced into his voice. The Giry's looked at each other and exchanged looks. They knew this would happen!

"It's wrong. I shouldn't be here with you. I should be back there," I motioned back towards the lair, "With him. And you- you should be with Meg." I said slowly realizing the truth of my words. Both were quiet and calm, both had a calm demeanor about them. Rather I was most like my angel: dark, passionate, adventurous...

Both Meg and Raoul looked at each other quickly then away. "We can't go back there Christine; they'll kill all of us." Meg said shakily.

"Look I'll come back here one day- I promise. But I want him to- to think that I'll be safe. I need you both to... sing the duet. Meg's voice will sound like mine far away." I said almost desperately.

Raoul shook his head unbelievingly. "I thought you- you loved me." he choked out.

"I do Raoul. But not enough for me to marry you." he looked shock for a moment.

"Fine- I'll do it." he muttered. I happily hugged him. I would be free from the engagement at last! Then looked at Meg. Hesitating for a moment, she nodded.

"But you'll have to feed me the words." Meg said, looking around as if the Phantom would catch them in the act.

(AN: hehe have to interrupt again: the words in parenthesis are Meg and the ones in dash are Raoul. The ones with nothing surrounding them is together).

_(Say you'll share with  
me, one  
love, one lifetime . . .)  
-say the word  
and I will follow you . .- _

_(Share each day with me . . .)_

_-. . . each night . . .-_

_. . . each morning . . ._

Distantly we could hear the Phantom, and a sudden crash of glass. I choked back a sob. Looking back at where I had left my heart behind I quietly sang...

_It's over now- the music of the night..._

"Mademoiselle, would you like a ride?" the driver broke me away from my thoughts as the carriage beside me waited while the horses tossed their head at the stop.

"Oui Monsieur, how much to take me to the dock at the English Channel?" He named his price and sighing, I paid him the amount. I was not in the spirits to bargain...

"Mademoiselle Beyer, come away from the window and join us here. We would be much obliged if you told us more about Paris." A simpering young lady with Golden curls called out to me. I still don't know why I changed my name-I just didn't want anyone to know where I was. But it seemed that no matter where I went, there was always someone to give me away...

"Do read us more of your poetry Christine, it's so passionate and..." the slightly pudgy girl to my left seemed to hesitate as she glanced at the blonde who had called me over.

I tried my best to hide a smirk. These cousins of mine were really not what I had expected. Quietly I nodded as I opened my book of poetry to read aloud. They were all for him. I had refused to sing after the incident, but I still had a way to describe my thoughts and emotions out loud.

"I remember  
there was mist . . .  
swirling mist  
upon a vast, glassy lake . . .  
There were candles  
all around  
and on the lake there  
was a boat,  
and in the boat  
there was a man . .

The man so filled with music,

a man who let my soul sing.

He who unlocked

my spirit from its cage,

he who showed me

his music of darkness.

He who hid his identity,

A man in a mask,

a rose with a ribbon,

an opera of triumph,

yet it was not a triumph

that night.

A ring you offered,

along with your heart and music.

But I denied my love for you,

and ran to shelter.

I was frightened,

yet in love.

But the truth is now too late.

I dropped you from my heaven,

and you fell back into your Hell."

I closed the book, as tears threatened to fall onto my face. I had lived here for eight months, yet the four books of poetry that I written had been filled with thoughts of _him_. _This is ridiculous, I should not be pining over him. What's done is done and this is my new life. But I promised Meg that I would come back…_

"That was very…" the blonde woman started, then seemed to look into the distance, "interesting mademoiselle . How did you ever come up with that?" she asked. I trembled under her sharp gaze, knowing that I may have been caught.

"I- well…"

"Come let us have a turn outside around the garden- it may refresh us both." she motioned for me to follow, and I dutifully obliged linking my own arm to hers. As we got outside, she went through the hedge maze, as I followed her trying to figure out what was going on. Once in the middle of the maze, she whirled around on me.

"Christine _Daae_, I so hope you will tell the rest of our family the truth. You have no need to hide your past." she snapped at me. I stared at her amazed at her sleuthing skills.

"Cousin Marguerite, I also hope you will help me keep my name in secret. I do not want to be found at this moment." I said calmly, though I was filled with anger at the moment. She laughed oddly, though the amusement did not seem to reach her eyes.

"We will see Christine, but for now I must show you something. There was an ad in the paper that I think might interest you." She said opening the folded newspaper that she had left clutched in her hand from earlier. Breaking contact from our gaze, There was an article titled: _"Vicomte de Chagny loses hope."_

"What does this," I asked motioning to the article, "have to do with me?" I asked trying to appear unconcerned.

"Read it." were the two words she said before thrusting the paper into my hands. "Read it and then come back when you have made your decision."

"What decision?" I asked confused. This was not what i wanted: a quarrel in the middle of a maze that I had no idea how to get out of.

"You will figure it out when you have finished reading that." was all she said as she disappeared around a bend of hedges. Sitting down on the stone bench by the water fountain, I smoothed out the article that had been put into print two days ago. _How had I not seen this in the paper?_ The article said as followed:

_**Vicomte de Chagny loses Hope **_

_After what seemed to be a short engagement, The Vicomte admits that he no longer has a fiancé after the disastrous events unfolded at the Opera Populaire eight months from this time. He has also admitted to certain affairs going on while the theatre house was running to a certain Christine Daae. Reported on being missing by a Madame Antoinette Giry the day after the fires, the Vicomte has doubled his efforts on trying to find his "Little Lotte." The Opera Populaire is now under re-construction- all paid by an anonymous donor, who has demanded the theatre house be rebuilt. One week after the fires, some of the men who had worked before, found a trap door to the lair of what was once the Phantom of the Opera. Nothing was found of his present existence except for the signature white half mask that people in the past learned to fear. The mask is now in the hands of the Vicomte, who is now giving up on all hopes of finding Miss Christine Daae. _

I sat there frozen for a moment as I closed my eyes. _The Phantom is not there anymore. My Angel of Music is gone. Should I go back to Paris? I could find another opera house to sing at- and maybe even another Phantom. But it did not say that a body was found. It just says that he had disappeared. So maybe he is still alive. Maybe I could go back and reclaim his love. _

Jumping up from the stone bench, I ran through the maze meeting dead end after dead end. Fuming, I ran back to the center and jumped up onto the stone bench. _This was becoming a waste of my valuable time_. The hedges were not that high and after studying the maze for a few moments, I figured out my way of escape.

Reaching the grand house of my cousin's moments later, I was escorted to the sitting room where I found my cousin Marguerite. "If you do not mind cousin, I need to use your writing desk." She nodded in agreement as she smiled, this time meaning it. Hurriedly I scribbled a short note, addressing it to my ex fiancé:

_Raoul, _

_I do not know when you will get this letter, but I do know that I once more am in need of your help. I have hidden in England for the past eight months, have changed my name, and stayed at the home of a distant cousin's. I would be much obliged if you came to visit, as I am sure you are in want of some answers. _

_Your friend always, _

_Little Lotte _

It had been two months before I got a response, and it wasn't through a letter either. At first I had assumed that he was rather busy with the rebuilding of the theatre, but then I jumped to him not wanting to see me. I had been taking tea when my visitor was announced. "Miss Daae, there is a Vicomte de Chagny here to visit you." (I had told the rest of the household who I really was that day after I had sent the letter). Getting up from my seat, I awaited nervously to greet my visitor. The door opened, and there he was.

"Raoul, it's wonderful to see you." I said as I ran over to hug him. He seemed tired, his face drawn from exhaustion; I noticed when I searched his kind face. "Do sit and have some tea. Or would you like to stroll in the gardens?" I asked trying to get an answer out of him.

"Ah little Lotte, still the same aren't you? A stroll around the gardens would be nice- I have been too cooped up in a carriage and the fresh air will do you good." he said gently. I inclined my head in thanks and took his waiting arm.

As we strolled through the garden in silence, I tried to think of what to say. "How is the construction going?"

He looked at me surprised. "Christine the construction was done two months ago. Surely you knew that?" I shook my head. "Anyways, I would not know. I haven't contacted the managers and so I assume that the construction was completed in a fashionable manner."

"You mean to say that you were not the anonymous donor?" I said. This time it was me who was surprised. He shook his head.

"I want nothing to do of that place. Well except-" he hesitated for a moment looking at me. "I need you to do me a favor Christine. I need you to go back and find Meg for me. There is something I need to ask her after the first opera."

I nodded. I would go back home. I would become a chorus girl or even Prima Donna once again. Who knew? "I will leave next month." I promised him. He stopped for a moment and looked at me.

"There was something else. I found this and thought you may want it." I stared at his face for a moment confused until I noticed that in his hand he held out the mask of my Angel. He seemed to want me to have it. But I shook my head.

"Take it back with you and leave it in my old room. Maybe with the help of his mask, the memories and ghosts will return."

The ride against the waters seemed to be unbearable for me. It was as if the English Channel did not want me on my merry way back to France. I had not sung in England- I had not sung at all. And I would not sing until I reached the Opera Populaire. I sat down to write one last poem- just to complete my fifth book- all for _him_.

_Your voice still haunts my mind,_

_my heart still gone._

_It seems that when I defy,_

_it all goes wrong._

_So now I will return,_

_shadows will be bright._

_The Phantom of the Opera is still_

_inside my mind._

_I dreamed of you alone,_

_my thoughts betray._

_It seems that my soul,_

_yearns for yours._

_And do I hope once more,_

_to find you there?_

_The Phantom of the Opera is still_

_inside my mind._

_Those who scorned you,_

_killed your past._

_I left and you stayed behind,_

_it seems grotesque._

_Yet when I close my eyes,_

_I still can see:_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there,_

_inside my mind._

_But now I know my heart,_

_I've learned to trust._

_I know who owns my love,_

_It's not the mask._

_The Angel of my dreams,_

_my heart of music._

"And now I find myself here. Not knowing why." Christine whispered softly. The Phantom watched her.

"You never read me your poetry. What was it about?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I need to visit my father's grave now." she said in the same tone. He nodded.

"I will take you to him."

"No, I must go alone."


	9. Chapter 9

She didn't wait for his answer. Shrugging on a cloak she had found in the room that the Phantom had given to her, she walked towards the lake and found the Phantom standing in the gondola waiting for her.

"I did say that I wanted to go by myself, _monsieur._" she snapped. She had stayed too long in Paris and she was tired of the Phantom's antics. She had sworn to herself that she would make herself busy during her spare time in the theatre, and she would avoid the Phantom as well- even if it meant avoiding Madame Giry.

He shrugged. "I figured that you may want help to get across the lake, since I do not think that you know how to steer it. Plus, I will not be able to travel to above ground if I had to wait for you to return it."

She shrugged. "Suite yourself Ang- Monsieur Phantom." she quickly corrected herself. He smirked as she blushed. Already her plan was not working. Smoothing her features she got into the boat, ignoring his hand to help her, and settled into the boat.

He frowned. He had thought that he had gotten her to warm up to him again. He too had her slip of her words, almost calling him her "Angel" once again. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he guided the pole for steering, but not once did she look at him. _This girl- this woman will be the end of me, _he thought grimly to himself.

After what seemed like hours to Christine, they finally reached the other side of the lake. Quickly swinging herself out of the boat, she turned to thank him only to find him already a few feet away from the edge as he began his way back home. She sighed knowing that she should have talked to him. But then who knew what would happen?

"Thank you monsieur. You can drive around for a while as I may stay here for some time." The man watched her skeptically. She had acted odd the whole ride to the graveyard. Talking to herself and even pleading for him to remove his hood. But Christine didn't know what to expect. She had assumed that the Phantom would take the driver's place once again. Thankfully she was wrong.

As she wandered towards her father's grave, a new song seemed to replace the one that she had sung before. The other one no longer seemed appropriate as she _had_ sung it to the Phantom.

_Father I wish _

_I wish I could _

_hear your advice _

_for one last time. _

_My heart feels _

_as cold as it was _

_when you left. _

_I wish that you _

_could hold me once more _

_in your warm embrace._

_As I walk about the mist,_

_this home you share _

_with others seems so forlorn._

_You were always one in solitary,_

_you let your music lead you._

_I wish I could do the same-_

_Oh, I wish I could try:_

_but father please tell me,_

_what do I do if my _

_music's no longer there?_

_You always told me,_

_to follow my heart._

_You always said _

_to let me soul live?_

_But how can it live,_

_if someone has _

_killed my heart with one stroke?_

"Then I would learn how to love again." a voice murmured in her ear. Gasping she whirled around to find herself facing the new patron.

"Maxwell! What are you doing here? I hope you weren't following me. I've been followed before and didn't enjoy the events that unfolded afterwards." she said sternly, trying to hide the fact that she had been frightened.

He grinned, but then his face became serious. "Actually I cam here to see my parents." he said quietly. She nodded in agreement.

"I came to see my father- I never knew my mother. She died when I was born." she explained.

He looked at her quizzically. "Do you always sing when you come to visit him?" she blushed.

"Yes- it makes me feel so much closer to him. So he knows that I haven't given up on music."

"Yes well." he seemed to look uncomfortable for a moment. "Would you like to go to lunch? I know a café that makes delicious soup." He watched her, hoping that he may still have a chance with this woman. She seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"I'll go. I haven't been out for a while." then looking around she added in a whisper, "But don't tell anyone or else I'll have to answer to the managers, Madame Giry, and the Ph-and the other patron." He nodded, suddenly lost in thought. _Why would she not want the other patron know? Is there something going on between them?_

"The other patron is he… Are you two together?" Christine looked at him confused for a moment then shook her head.

"Oh no, we're- we're old friends that's all. He can just get somewhat protective." she explained carefully. No the Phantom was not with her- they were not together. Even if that was what she wanted. He nodded again, as he offered her his arm, and together they left the cemetery. An open carriage approached her and Christine realized that it was the carriage that she had earlier sent away. But it wasn't the same driver. It was…

"Raoul?"


	10. Chapter 10

He stared down at her from his seat on the wagon. "Christine, Monsieur." he said acknowledging them both. Then purposely ignoring Maxwell, he gave Christine his warm smile. "Christine I heard that our _friend_," Christine flinched at his tone and tight smile, "is holding a masquerade. I was hoping that you would accompany me to the festivities." Out of the corner of her eye, Christine could see Maxwell clenching his fists tightly- she could tell that he had been planning to ask that as well.

"You will have to accept my deepest apology to both of you; I'm planning to go by myself." Christine said truthfully. And she _was_ going by herself- unless the Phantom asked her...

"Unless you are saving yourself for the Phantom." Raoul muttered under his breath. Christine closed her eyes as she tried to keep her temper in check_. He's trying to play with your feelings- don't let him get to you_!

She knew both men were staring at her. But she didn't need this right now. She _didn't _want three men fighting over her. It had been two men before, and Christine had been mislead. She knew who she wanted, yet she didn't know how to reclaim him.

"Vicomte de Chagny, Vicomte de Witten. I must ask you to excuse me. It seems I have forgotten that I have rehearsal that I will be late for if I do not return back to the opera house. Monsieur Witten, shall we return?" Christine asked flirtatiously, offering a dazzling smile that had before captured the Opera Ghost's, Raoul's hearts and now captured Maxwell's. Offering his arm, Christine accepted, putting her arm through his.

She smiled graciously at him then turned to Raoul. "Be warned Monsieur de Chagny, while you insult my friends and myself with your spoken thoughts, you do not remain my friend- you remain as an acquaintance whether or not I grew up with you."

With that, Maxwell led her away, her face calm. But inside she was jumping for joy that for once she did not let herself be pushed around by the opposite sex. As the modest carriage began to put distance between Raoul and themselves, she heard him say, "I will not lose to a monster- nor to another man!"

"Christine, you need to concentrate! You are putting no emotions (_no passion!_) into this song. What is wrong?" the Phantom demanded after having to make Christine restart the aria several times during her lesson. Christine flushed. She did not want to tell the Phantom of her problems as she had when she was ten. She was now nineteen and did not need a father figure in her life- she needed a man to love. And this was her choice. She shook her head, but the Phantom would not give up this easily. "Did you meet anyone at the cemetery?" Christine flinched but remained silent yet he knew he had hit a chord or she would not have responded like that. "Christine..." he said warningly.

She hesitated for a moment before drawing in a breath. "wheniwentthereibumpedintotheotherpatron,monsieurmaxwell,andtheniacceptedhisofferoflunchatthecafeacrossthestreetandthenRaoulinterceptedusandthenaskedmeto gowithhimtothemasqueradeandiknewthatMawellwasgoingtoaskmesoisaidiwasgoingbymyselfsothattheywouldn'tfight-thoughtruthfullyididn'twanttogowitheitherofthem." She said quickly, hoping that the Phantom hadn't understood her.

"Say it again but slower." the Phantom demanded. He had heard both Vicomte's names and also mention of the masquerade, but he wasn't sure what else she had said.

"When I went there I bumped into the other patron, Monsieur Maxwell, and then I accepted his offer of lunch at the cafe across the street and then Raoul intercepted us and then asked me to go with him to the Masquerade and I knew that Maxwell was going to ask me so I said I was going by myself so that they wouldn't fight-though truthfully I didn't want to go with either of them." she said slowly.

"And why did you not want to go with either if them?" the Phantom asked quietly, unsure if he wanted to hear her answer.

"Because I made a mistake before- and I don't want to make that same mistake again." Christine said glancing his way before blushing. He silently thanked whatever Gods present that this time had not made this a dream.

"And what mistake is that?"

"Losing you." those two words changed the Phantom's life after that. He cleared his throat for a minute, thinking he had misheard.

"Mademoiselle, I am not sure but I think you said the two words: losing you. Am I correct?" he said watching her. She blushed then nodded. "Well then Miss Daae, may I have your permission to accompany me to the Masquerade?"

Christine blushed. "The teacher and the student, the patron and the prima donna. It has a nice ring to it." she decided happily.

"So I assume that is an acceptance?"

"It is."

**AN: yay! so anyway the Phantom and Christine are going to the Masquerade together! But this isn't the end of this part. So anyway... on with the story**

"Monsieur de Chagny! You must stop this! She chose to go with _neither _of the Vicomtes. You did not lose, nor did you win." Raoul's manservant Charles did his best to console his master. But to no avail, Raoul was pacing in front of Christine's private dressing room. If the door had been unlocked, Raoul would have barged into her room- but it was locked and so he knew that Christine had gone down to _his_ lair once again.

"How can I calm down Charles? Christine's down there with that- that _thing_! Anything could have happened by now! Why couldn't she have just stayed in her dressing room! I could always win her over again! Just leave me Charles, you are dismissed for the day." Raoul snapped annoyed. Charles bowed and left but Raoul paid no attention as his thoughts were on Christine.

This was not the Little Lotte he knew. She would have never gone off in her younger years. He knew she should have stayed at his mansion when her father had passed away- but by the time they had reached the Daae's home, she had left.

"He is not a thing Monsieur de Chagny. I would be most grateful if you stopped calling him that." Madame Giry appeared from the shadows. "Christine and the Phantom are in love. Do not let your jealousy interfere- because you will not be the winner in the outcome."

"Who was the one who knew Christine since birth? Who was the one who shared stories with Christine? Who saved her from the Phantom's madness? Me! I have been her friend from childhood and-"

"And that is what you will remain Monsieur- her childhood _friend_. You cannot give her what the Phantom has given her- you would not have let her sing."

"She could have sang in company. But not on stage! That would have been a disgrace!" Raoul cried out, not noticing Christine behind him arm in arm with the Phantom.

"Angel, you were right: he is _a fop_!" Christine spat out. Unlinking herself from the Phantom she walked up to Raoul, jabbing her finger into his chest. "And that is why I wasn't in love with you: you could never give me my freedom!"

"But we were engaged!"

"I was young Raoul. I didn't understand love! I thought it was a friendship! But it's more than that, and it's something you're not ready for!" Christine shouted back. Raoul was frantic. She was leaving him, he didn't want that: He wanted Christine! So he did the only thing that he thought was right: He kissed her.

It wasn't like the time on the roof. It was just a kiss: there was nothing at all, no emotion- except desperation from Raoul. That was when Christine realized that he didn't think of her as nineteen year old Christine, he thought of her as six year old Little Lotte. Pushing away only moments later from being forced into a kiss, she slapped him, the sound echoing down the hall way.

"Raoul you need help! I told you that I don't love you! Do you not understand that? Just because we were friends does not make us lovers." Silence settled around them as Christine realized that neither Madame Giry nor the Phantom had moved.

Except for her Angel who had by now begun knotting his Punjab lasso. Raoul paled as he noticed the Phantom's actions. But still in his distraught mind he tried one last daring act.

"You will be mine again Lotte! I swear it by your father's grave that you will be my bride!" Raoul snapped. That struck a nerve in the Phantom's mind and the next thing he knew it, Raoul found his hands trying to loosen the lasso that was around his neck. In the distance, he could hear Christine's pleas to stop, then suddenly found himself gasping for breath on the carpet.

The Phantom knelt down next to Raoul and hissed, "I'd keep your hands at the level of your eye, if I were you. Next time my hands might slip." Getting up he put his arm around Christine's waist and they walked away towards the stage.

Madame Giry wrung her hands. "Monsieur de Chagny, I suggest you stay clear of both Mademoiselle Daae and the Phantom- unless you have a death wish. Talk to her at the Masquerade under your disguise if you must. But do not talk to her until then!"

"Why are you trying to help me?" Raoul demanded. "How are you involved."

"I told you my story Monsieur. And I am trying to help you from earning an early grave."

"Where are we going Angel?" Christine asked as he led her at a fast pace to the Manager's office.

"We are going to speak to those two fools. They do not know how to run a theatre properly. _Mon ange_, I need you to stay here- The sight inside may not be the prettiest site." Christine nodded silently, knowing that the Phantom had her intentions at best. Pulling her into a quick embrace, he ran a finger down her cheek. He had to go _now_. Abruptly he fell out of their embrace and after a last look at Christine walked into the office.

"By God! What the hell do I give money to this opera house for if they can't even protect their prima donna?" He yelled out, pounding his fist on the wooden desk causing papers to scatter. Monsieur Firmin seemed to tremble at every word the Phantom said, while Monsieur Andre just watched him calmly.

"What would you have me do Monsieur, throw him out?" Monsieur Andre said in monotone, as he bent down from his chair to try and pick up the papers.

"Throw him to Hell for all I care, Andre! Just make sure his feet never touch a blasted bit of property that belongs to the Oper Poulaire. Unless you wish for more _prop_s to suddenly _hang_ from the support beams." The Phantom said reaching under his cloak to show his lasso. Firmin seemed to shake even more at the sight of the deadly rope. Even Andre seemed to pale at the sight of the weapon.

"No, no, no! He will be removed immediately! We assure you Monsieur!" Firmin seemed to say between each curse muttered under his breath.

"And Christine Daae, shall stay with me for the remaining time she is here! She will not be at risk!" The Phantom said laying down his last card, knowing that once more he had won.

"Monsieur, we are at you disposal. Just no more deaths and we will all have an understanding." Andre said after a moment's hesitation.

Christine sat outside, straining to listen the voices that seemed to bellow out of the manager's office. Two shadows caught her attention, and she could hear the bickering voices of Raoul and Madame Giry. She would not see him! Hiding behind a column, she saw Raoul walking towards the office, muttering words about re- signing documents. With Raoul's form turned away from her, Christine frantically tried to get Madame Giry's attention, and finally did but at the wrong moment. She pointed to the door, then made motions concerning a rope, and Madame Giry paled. Today really was not a good day. "Monsieur Chagny, might I interest you in- in- the newest collection of paintings we have acquired?" she said brightly trying to direct his attention away from the office.

"No Madame, I have no interest except to see Andre and Firmin. I will teach them how to run my theatre!" he proclaimed as he opened the door while talking to Madame Giry, not realizing that the three men in the room had heard his last exclamation.

"Dear Monsieur, do you not mean_ my_ theatre?" the Phantom asked spooking Raoul as his voice feigned sweetness. With a hiss, he leaped at Raoul, sword in hand- one that Raoul distinctly remembered. Not wasting another moment, Raoul drew out his own sword and quickly fended off a stroke from the Phantom.

"You- monster! I will get Christine back! She has not been tainted by you yet!" Raoul cried out. The Phantom seemed to hiss in annoyance and once more lunged for Raoul's shoulder, this time cutting his arm. "You son of the Devil! My blood is more expensive than your own repulsive body!"

Christine seemed to cry out. "Both of you stop this! You're both acting like fools again!"

They crossed blades again, this time, their bodies almost pressed close together. "Boy!" the Phantom hissed, "Do not assume you can beat me so easily! I am not called the Opera Ghost for nothing! You shall not have Christine!" he said grimacing at the pressure that seemed to retract from their swords.

"Christine is pure! Unlike your monstrosity! Or has she become you whore!" Christine seemed to let out a shriek of repulsion. "Have you already enjoyed her? When will you grow weary of her? When she has performed your opera!" The Phantom snarled and pushed the fop as far away from him as possible. But that was his mistake. Raoul lunged knocking the Phantom off of his feet, then quickly kicked the sword out of the Opera Ghost's hand. His blade seemed to whistle in the air, as its point barely touched the Phantom's neck. "So now you die Monsieur!" Raoul spat out. "Not even your whore's cries will save you." At those words, he felt cool metal against the back of his own neck.

"Then what about your own life, Monsieur de Chagny? Would you not kill if your own life is threatened? Are you as cowardly as you act? Only a coward cheats at swords!" Christine said quietly, the Phantom's sword in hand.

Growling, Raoul swung around intending to knock the sword out of Christine's hand, only to find the block parried. They fought for what seemed like hours, until finally Christine had knocked Raoul's sword away from its master and had him against one of the marble columns. The Phantom, gently stepped on Raoul's blade to keep it from escaping.

"Bitch!" Raoul cried out, the Phantom's sword at his neck. But there was no escape for him.

"You know what they say Monsieur: keep your friends close- but your _enemies_ closer." Christine spat out. "I don't want to see you step foot in the Opera Populaire ever! Or next time, I will not attempt to save you from the Phantom of the Opera!" She backed away, the point still directed at Raoul until she reached the Phantom. "Take it- I do not want to hold a tool of bloodshed in my hands no longer. This ordeal is finished." Both managers, the Opera Ghost and Madame Giry looked at her stunned. _Where had she learned to fight? _Finally the Phantom nodded, then kicked his opponent's weapon back to its owner.

"This is not over Monsieur! We will have a proper joust- the next time we meet, one of us dies!" Raoul announced, before sliding the blade back into its sheath and walked away towards the entrance.

The Phantom reached for Christine's hand. "Come my dear. We must go below where you will stay until the opera. Grab what belongings you will need." Christine became ecstatic, as she quickly hugged her Angel then blushed realizing that they had an audience before dashing off towards her dressing room.

Raoul knew where Christine had been taught. He knew the double meaning in the phrase she had told him. He would remain an enemy until he accepted Christine's happiness- but he could never do that. He only thought of the Christine he had known before. Once outside, and safely in his carriage, he broke down. "Why Little Lotte, why?" he sobbed as his carriage rolled away towards the Chagny property.

There had been only one man before who had known them both as youths while Raoul had been learning the proper forms of jousting.

"Driver return me to my mansion. It seems as if I have a betrayer in my midst."


	11. Chapter 11

Something was going to happen- they all knew it. Yet no one said anything, and the Phantom still continued preparations for the Masquerade. Yet they were all busy: Madame Giry had to re-teach some of the choreography since the Phantom decided to change it, Christine was now working furiously on her part for the opera, the managers were busy arguing about whether they still wanted to have Raoul as one of their patrons or not, and Meg was trying to put herself under stress and work to make herself forget about Raoul.

But neither girls had costumes and so with the Masquerade quickly approaching, both of the girls spent their time finding the right costumes. Meg had found what she had wanted long ago: an icy blue ball gown that shimmered every time she moved, the hem of the gown was triangularly striped with the insides a silvery- white. It splendidly matched Meg's looks and Christine was happy for her. But she still hadn't been able to find a costume for herself. It would have to be something special- that she knew. Something that gave an answer to the Phantom, something he alone would recognize as her acceptance of his love. But she couldn't think what.

"Christine, you've got to try something on!" Meg protested as Christine dragged her out of the costume vault with only one dress in hand. "You promised!"

"Don't worry Meg, I'll think of something- I always do." Then it hit her- she knew exactly what she would wear... "Meg what if I wore..." Christine whispered it into her ear. Meg's smile grew wider and wider until she finally squealed.

"He'll love it Christine!"

**thanks Agnes1014 for the idea for this one section (below)!**

She walked into the theatre house only to find it empty save for one man: Maxwell. Christine sighed- she knew that this would have to happen sometime soon.

"Do you love him?" Maxwell asked, interrupting the silence.

"Who?" Christine questioned- trying to figure out who he meant.

"The Phantom: do you love him?" Christine couldn't believe his blunt question. Little did she know that the Phantom was in his regular Box 5, also surprised that the rehearsal had not begun yet.

"No." Christine stopped for a moment, and both men thought her done with her answer. The Phantom turned to leave disgusted, not hearing the rest of her answer. "I'm _in_ love with him." Maxwell couldn't believe his ears: she was in love the monster? Raoul was right, she must be under his power.

"Marry me Christine, I'll make you the happiest woman in the world. I'll allow you to perform on stage."

"I'm sorry monsieur but I have just met you- I cannot be engaged to someone I hardly know."

"But you hardly knew Raoul when you were engaged to him."

"He was a shadow of my childhood, Monsieur. I hope that you will not confuse that anymore." Christine said coldly. _How was it that everyone she had met seemed to confuse that about Raoul. They were not lovers- just old friends_.

"I cannot accept the fact that you are in love with that monster. You deserve love. _My_ love. I've fallen for you Christine- just like the other two men in your lives."

"If you loved me as you said Monsieur, then you would be happy for my descision and happiness. Not like Raoul, unable to face the truth. He is in denial, and if you cannot accept my descision, then you are as bad as him." Christine snapped. She was tired of everyone commenting about her love.

"But I could set you free from darkness!" Maxwell exclaimed. Christine sighed. _Here we go again..._

"Okay, either I should give all men in Paris a lesson about my spirit- or all men are dense. If I married you Maxwell, then I would be caged up. With the Phantom- he sets my soul free. And it isn't darkness that he lives in, but the light of music. Denial is darkness, hate is darkness. But love, any love is light. And now if you excuse me Monsieur, I must attend my lesson below." Dropping into a playful curtsy, she ran lightly to her dressing room, waiting for her love to appear and take her below for her lesson. She sat on her bed waiting after standing in front of the mirror for several minutes.

More minutes passed, afternoon turned to evening- still he didn't come. _Had he forgotten? Or have I angered him in some way?_ She would get to the bottom of this. Walking across her dressing room to her door, she found it locked.

"Going to see your lover?" Christine whirled around to find the Phantom leaning against the mirror's frame. She stared at him in confusion, but the Opera Ghost in his anger mistook it for admittance of guilt. He grabbed her as he leaned into her face. "_You are mine!_" He hissed in anger, his eyes once more smoldering flames from _Don Juan Triumphant_. Christine trembled. _What had she done wrong? I have no lover_...

"What are you accusing me of monsieur? I have no lover. Not yet anyway..." the Phantom stopped her as if hurt.

"Don't finish that sentence, unless you have a death wish." he rasped. Christine stared at him stricken_. His anger is controlling him _she finally realized. "I don't like things held up in front of me that I cannot have." he said whispering in her ear after pulling her close. She shivered at his touch but the Phantom once more mistook is as repulsion. "You cannot change your mind now- past the point of no return, right? Do I repulse you _that_ much?"

Christine closed her eyes as tears formed: he thought that she had another lover. "Ange-"

He swore as he pushed her on the bed. "Do not call me that! I am a man not an angel! I am of blood and flesh as you are! Do you need proof of my mortality?" When she did not respond, he grabbed a glass that was sitting on her dresser and crushed it. Small shards of glass and water combined splashed the room, but Christine only noticed her love's cut- up hand. "Let this be a lesson that I would do_ anything _for your love. I could never hurt _you_. Just myself." He swiftly turned and went back into the mirror, closing the entrance. She sat there in shock at what he had done. He had once more returned to his hatred. She had to rescue him once more from his Hell and his hate- or darkness would consume him. What she feared the most was that she didn't know if she would be able to bring him back.

"But it hurts me, when you hurt yourself." Christine whispered softly to the blank mirror.

**AN: weird, eh? okay so anyway...this is a time change to the masquerade, just because in between is the Phantom not answering her calls, not attending the rehearsals, but like before everyone can hear him pounding away at the organ**...

She would go with Meg and try and console the Phantom of the Opera there. If he was there, and did not spoil the party as he had last time. Linking arms, they walked into the ball room, the differences of their outfits evident. From behind her half mask, Christine knew that no one really knew who she was- only one person that she cared would know. Now if she could just find him...

"Excuse me mademoiselle, I noticed that you have no partner- may I have the first dance?" A voice interrupted her thoughts. At first she thought it was Raoul but then Christine realized it was Maxwell. She nodded as if not knowing who is was. Not noticing the glowering of another man standing in the corner with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

As Maxwell led her on to the dance floor, the Phantom's eyes feasted on her appearance. She had worn the Amanita costume, but had added more material so that it wasn't as see through as it had been before. Her mask was amazing: a black mask covering her eyes, decorated with red flames and sparkles. But she wasn't happy- he himself could see that. The darned Vicomte though was too blind to see it as he chatted to her happily.

He saw her glance around, then stare at something behind him. No not behind him- HIM! Her lips formed one word: _Help_. He could see the silent plea in her eyes. He sighed. Here came the Opera Ghost once more to the rescue. Was that all he was good for?

Christine blinked. He had left. One glance and that was it. What had she done to upset him? She jumped startled when she heard the rich baritone voice behind her. "May I borrow her for a moment?" Maxwell seemed to hesitate and then nod, his eyes searching for someone behind Christine. With a quick twirl, Maxwell was gone and in his steed was the Opera Ghost. They danced in silence for sometime before it was too loud. "Wherever did you find this costume Miss Daae? It is very unique." Christine flushed in annoyance. Was he not even going to call her by her name?

"You can call me Christine you know Angel." she murmured quietly; neither had noticed that everyone was staring at the only couple dancing on the floor. They had eyes only for each other. Christine looked at his outfit for a second before returning to his dark gaze. "It seems that we thought of the same thing." He was wearing the outfit of Don Juan.

He gave a dry laugh. "What can I say _mon ange_, I have a talent." Christine blushed as she realized that she had broken the thin wall that had separated them from each other. She closed her eyes and leaned into him and they just stood there for what seemed as an eternity. Until finally he couldn't take it anymore, swooping down and claming her mouth.

She seemed to pause for a moment, and suddenly, passion rushed into them both, as they realized they had just had an understanding. It was Christine who broke contact, finally realizing that they had a pretty large audience.

"Well it seems like the old fairy tale story, eh good monsieurs?" said a cold voice breaking the silence as the rest of the company stayed there shocked. "Beauty and the Beast as I remember it." It was Raoul. Christine didn't even have to look behind her to know who that voice belonged to.

"Yes but it seems that I can't remember the ending." said Maxwell as he came up next to Raoul. "How did it go again?" Raoul approached the Phantom as Maxwell pushed Christine away from them. "Ah yes, I believe that, in this particular story, the Beast... DIES!" With the last word, Raoul flung off the Opera Ghost's mask, and both men drew their swords. The onlookers gasped, some women even screamed, at the remembrance of the Phantom's doings.

The Phantom was in a rage! His eyes grew dark and stormy as he snarled. His one shield from the world was gone. All rational thoughts seemed to leave his mind as one word thudded through his body: _KILL_!

He flung off his cloak as he drew out his sword. The air whistled as Raoul's blade swung through the air and the Ghost's blade met it with a _Clang_! Christine's voice was oblivious to all three men as Maxwell broke into the fight, trying his best to strike the Opera Ghost.

A sword blocked Maxwell's and his head shot up in confusion. It couldn't have been the Phantom, he was too busy fending off Raoul.

"Christine!"

She glared at him, all warmness that she had given him earlier disappeared. "Monsieur I did hope you would not be like that _fop_! But I guess I was mistaken: you Vicomtes are all the same!" she spat out as she thrust her blade to knock out Maxwell's blade from his hand. He switched hands, then winced as Christine's blade cut his forearm. Blood filled the wound as he let out a short wail of annoyance.

"You'll pay for that Mademoiselle!" He tried his best to strike her, but she quickly parried the blow.

"Now Monsieur, don't you know that it's improper to strike a lady in any manner?" Christine taunted.

"So the Phantom once more is a monster, eh? It really wasn't that hard for you to hate again. Didn't your _mother_ ever tell you to never bottle up your anger?" Raoul sniped in the same way as Christine did to Maxwell. Little did Christine and the Opera Ghost know that they were about to collide. Without knowing, they began attacking back to back. Until finally, Christine slashed Maxwell's torso and a thick line of blood appeared on his costume. At the same time, the Phantom had managed to take out his Punjab lasso, and had tossed it over Raoul's head. After the many times Madame Giry had warned him, Raoul finally did what she had always instructed him to do: he kept his hands at the level of his eyes. Grinning he undid the lasso only to find himself at sword point by Christine once again.

"Why do you continue to hurt me Raoul? Why will you not give up? Why will any of you not understand that I love him!" She said muttering into his ear as the Phantom watched her grimly. Below the Phantom and Christine was the star trap door, and quickly holding on to the Phantom, he activated the door, as they both fell into the red smoke.


	12. Chapter 12

She couldn't help but shiver at the sight of him as the Phantom steered the gondola in the right direction. His strength, his music, his _soul_: that was what she loved about him, and she would probably die if she was forced to be separated from him again. He glanced down at her, his face harboring a slight smile. She blushed realizing she had been caught in staring.

"And what is it that you find so fascinating, Christine?" the Phantom asked breaking away from their contact as he docked the gondola and offered a gloved hand to Christine's trembling one.

She accepted and muttered a string of words under her breath as she made her way to the swan bed, feigning exhaustion. But he knew Christine better. Grabbing her wrist, the Opera Ghost swung her back to him and she began to giggle trying her best to keep it in. "And what is so funny?" She shook her head blushing at her thoughts.

"Nothing that you need to know of Angel." He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing her nickname to wash over him.

"You have not had a lesson for sometime mon ange. Perhaps one now?" _And perhaps I'll find out what she found so amusing later._ Christine nodded secretly hoping that he would sing with her as he had before. He lead her over to the organ, and once more handed her another pile of music, different from the last time Christine realized as she flipped through the music. The duet was not there, the one thing she was ready to sing.

She began her scales half- consciously while the Phantom effortlessly played the chords in correspondence. She smiled at the first song, one of her favorites. As she began _Think of Me_, she realized that this would be how she would feel about the Opera Ghost if they had to separate. Thinking about it even more, she theorized that this was how Raoul, maybe even Maxwell, felt.

Abruptly she stopped. _This isn't right- I shouldn't be thinking about this while I sing. I can't be weak anymore, I've got be strong!_

"Christine, are you all right?" the Phantom asked quietly breaking the silent barrier between them as he stared at the keyboard.

"Yes, I just-" Christine stopped as he stared at her, his eyes holding back fury. She knew that the Opera Ghost was angry since she stopped herself and wouldn't tell him the truth. She shook her head and finally found herself moving towards the black trunk and opened the top revealing the music.

The Opera Ghost watched her as she dug through bounded music scores until finally she emerged from her music searching holding up a black bound score. There was a flash of stamped gold lettering, but he couldn't tell which Opera it was. She flipped through the pages before finally setting the music on the stand in front of him.

She had hoped that he would be happy for her bold descision. Instead he looked at her sorrowfully, his eyes only holding sadness. "Why Christine? Do I remind you of someone? Another man? _Another lover?"_ he spat out, anger once more consuming him. And finally Christine understood: he had assumed that Christine had a lover in her life. Now that seemed to her to be the funniest thing, and she let out her laughter. He stared at her confused, as she wiped tears away from her eyes.

"You- think- that- I - have- another- man- in- my- life?" Christine said in between laughs.

"I actually know so. I saw you that day with Maxwell." This stopped her. "I heard your answer."

"Good, so that means that we can move on then right?" Christine asked not realizing her choice of words would prove just more anger.

"Why?"

"What?" Christine asked confused.

"You heard what I said: why?"

"Because you're everything to me- because what I said was true." Christine said confused. He stared at her in anger.

"So feel nothing for me? No emotion what so ever?" the Phantom snapped, annoyed.

Christine stared at him in horror. "How could you even say that!" Then she thought back to what she had said before. "What did you hear me say?"

He crossed his arms happily waiting for the time when he could let his anger out. "You said no."

"You didn't hear the rest?" The Phantom shook his head. Christine sighed and walked back over to the organ. Staring at the music in silence.

A clear note rang through the air as Christine pressed down a key. She turned around, and right then and there the Phantom knew that she was the perfect Amanita, still in her costume from the Masquerade, her eyes filled with love, admiration and adoration.

_You have brought me  
to that moment  
where words run dry,  
to that moment  
where speech  
disappears  
into silence,  
silence . . ._

He watched as she approached him, and suddenly all the movements from the Opera disaster flowed into their minds...

_I have come here,  
hardly knowing  
the reason why . . .  
In my mind,  
I've already  
imagined our  
bodies entwining  
defenseless and silent -  
and now I am  
here with you:  
no second thoughts,  
I've decided,  
decided . . .  
_

_Past the point  
of no return -  
no going back now:  
our passion-play  
has now, at last,  
begun . . .  
Past all thought  
of right or wrong -  
one final question:  
how long should we  
two wait, before  
we're one . . .?  
When will the blood  
begin to race  
the sleeping bud  
burst into bloom?  
When will the flames,  
at last, consume  
us . . .?  
_

They held each other tightly not wanting to let the other go as they finished the song together:

_Past the point  
of no return  
the final threshold -  
the bridge  
is crossed, so stand  
and watch it burn . . .  
We've passed the point  
of no return . . ._

Glancing down at her, he realized that her back was against him and he held her there, his arms clasped around her waist. He smiled. She had truly made her descision now: both knew that. Bending down, he sang into her ear:

_Say you'll share with  
me one  
love, one lifetime . . .  
Lead me, save me  
from my solitude . . .  
Say you want me  
with you,  
here beside you . . .  
Anywhere you go  
let me go too -  
Christine  
that's all I ask of . . ._

Once again the Phantom was unable to finish his solo. Twisting around, Christine flung off his mask, and the next thing he knew, her mouth was upon his. Was seemed like minutes later, they broke apart both breathing raggedly but still clinging to each other. "I think I'm ready to sing it properly now." Christine said quietly. The Phantom nodded still shocked at her unusual bold actions.

"Why did you remove my mask yet again, Christine?" he asked her, his whispers sending shivers down her spine.

"Because you need to understand that I'll always love you just the way you are."


	13. Chapter 13

"Miss Daae from the top of the Aria please." Said Monsieur Reyers, as he signaled for the orchestra to begin once more. The Phantom sat there, in the front seat like any normal man would. And it seemed for once that no one even cared that the Phantom of the Opera was sitting right there.

It had been a few weeks since the night in the lair, and he was now busy trying to make the orchestral accompaniment smoother and not as harsh to the ears. Otherwise, he sat there either watching Christine through dazed eyes or pounding up on stage and yelling at her for not having enough passion in her voice.

"Then perhaps you would accompany me through this run through _monsieur._" Christine had snapped as everyone knew by now that the Phantom would be playing Don Juan and was planning to "wing it." The Phantom shook his head, then turned to Monsieur Reyers.

"Excuse us for one moment." Monsieur nodded then turned to the players in the orchestra and began discussing the new add ins and changes.

The Opera Ghost led her out of the theatre house, and pushed her against the wall. "What are you playing at?" he snapped as Christine smirked. "I do not know where your head is Christine but you have to concentrate!"

"And you're talking to a girl whose teacher is deciding to "wing" his own opera?" Christine said haughtily crossing her arms. "I've done rehearsals, and I've practiced. But you won't get any emotion from me until the performance season begins."

He growled at her. "Miss Daae," he whispered into her ear sending shivers down her spine, "you are either trying to infuriate me, or make me want to take you down to my lair and have you right now before-" he stopped, realizing he had almost uncovered his surprise.

She tsk-ed at him. "Monsieur, such brazen language!" she said teasingly, not realizing his slip- up. "But as I said: if you do not practice, then I do not practice. I have been in more rehearsals than you. And I know my part. _My whole part._ It's not as if we'll be interrupted again." Christine added. The Phantom turned away before she could see him pale.

"Then _Let the audience in, let my opera begin!_" He sang kissing her hand and handing her a thornless rose tied with a black silk ribbon.

From backstage, Christine Daae could hear the crowd murmuring, with an occasional greeting. An arm wrapped around her waist, and she whirled around to find- Raoul!

"Miss me?" he murmured into her ear as he ran his hand through her hair. She turned her face away trying her best to avoid his touch. "Oh don't tell me you're still mad at me!" he said angrily pushing her away from him. Christine stared at him in fear. _Angel, where are you?_

She began backing away from Raoul when she felt that she had bumped into a wall. Looking up, All she saw was a black mask before a cloak of darkness settled over her. All she could hear was muffled squeak, and suddenly she saw backstage again realizing that the Phantom had hidden her with his cloak.

"Monsieurs, mademoiselle! The Opera is about to begin! Places everyone!"

They approached each other as they were on the bridge on the top of the stage:

_Past the point  
of no return  
the final threshold -  
the bridge  
is crossed, so stand  
and watch it burn . . .  
We've passed the point  
of no return . . ._

He held her against him, then spun her around so that they faced each other. Christine frowned: this wasn't part of the choreography. Leading her down the stairs of the bridge, he seemed excited as he placed them center stage. Singing forte, he once more sang:

_Say you'll share with  
me one  
love, one lifetime . . .  
Lead me, save me  
from my solitude . . .  
Say you want me  
with you,  
here beside you . . .  
Anywhere you go  
let me go too -  
Christine  
that's all I ask of you._

Taking a ring out of his pocket and kneeled and presented it to Christine. Letting out a gasp, as did the audience and managers, she flung her arms around him and put the ring on. Then began singing to him:

_No more talk  
of darkness,  
Forget these  
wide-eyed fears.  
I'm here,  
nothing can harm you -  
my words will  
warm and calm you.  
Let me be  
your freedom,  
let daylight  
dry -your tears.  
I'm here,  
with you, beside you,  
to guard you  
and to guide you . . ._

The Phantom knew the song, as he had been spying the last winter. He took the part that she had sung on the roof top **(AN:okay so from now on: any lyrics in parenthesis are the Phantom, the ones without are Christine, and the one with dashes are them together.)**

_Say you love me  
every  
waking moment,  
turn my head  
with talk of summertime . . .  
(Say you need me  
with you,  
now and always . . .  
promise me that all  
you say is true -  
that's all I ask  
of you . . .  
Let me be  
your shelter,  
let me  
be your light.  
You're safe:  
No-one will find you  
your fears are  
far behind you . . .)_

_  
All I want  
is freedom,  
a world with  
no more fights . . .  
and you  
always beside me  
to hold me  
and to hide me . . ._

_  
(Then say you'll share with  
me one  
love, one lifetime . . .  
let me lead you  
from your solitude . . .  
Say you need me  
with you  
here, beside you . . .  
anywhere you go,  
let me go too -  
Christine,  
that's all I ask  
of you . . .)_

_  
Say you'll share with  
me one  
love, one lifetime . . .  
say the word  
and I will follow you . . .  
_

_-Share each day with  
me, each  
night, each morning . . .-  
Say you love me . . .  
_

_(You know I do . . .)_

-Love me  
that's all I ask  
of you . . .  
Anywhere you go  
let me go too . . .  
Love me -  
that's all I ask  
of you . .-

The audience cheered as they kissed. The Phantom, anxious to be alone with his love, frantically motioned for the curtain to be closed. As it did, the Phantom dragged Christine away from the stage, and she eagerly followed. They quickly made their way to Christine's dressing room, before being bombarded by the crowds.

"You said yes." He said as he stared into her eyes searching for any kind of pity.

"You proposed." She said just as shocked as him.

He smirked. "Touché."


	14. Chapter 14

Groaning, Raoul opened his eyes, screeching in pain when he tried to stretch. _Where am I? _Looking around, all he could see was that he was enclosed inside a room of curtains. Something began pounding inside his head, when he finally realized that they were someone's footsteps approaching where he rested on what he assumed was a bed.

"Oh good, you're up. I was just about to send for a doctor with you out for so long."

"How long have I been unconscious, Maxwell?"

"Oh just about two days- nothing so bad. But while you were in the world of the unconsciousness, there's some new news you should know about. First off, Monsieurs Andre and Firmin have declined your offer of patronage, they dropped mine- no doubt because of what had occurred at the Masquerade, and the Phantom and Christine are engaged an-"

Raoul tried to sit up quickly, but nausea overcame him from his sudden movements. "What do you mean they're engaged. _My_ Christine would ne-"

"She is not your Christine, nor mine, Raoul. I doubt she never was either of ours. And besides, I think there's a part of this you either lied about or you just didn't tell me." Maxwell said, rolling his eyes in annoyance. This boy truly was a fop- it seemed that the viscount had it in his twisted mind that he _owned_ Christine or as he sometimes affectionately called her "Little Lotte."

"Okay, okay- so maybe I did over exaggerate once or a couple times about the story! But not purposely!" Raoul exclaimed while trying to stay clear of Maxwell's sarcasm.

"Did he murder a man, Raoul? Tell me that much, and I will not be disgusted at your falsehoods." Raoul shifted uncomfortably at this question. _Well, he did kill Monsieur Bouquet and then there was that one tenor as well... But he swore to Christine that night that he hadn't planned to kill them- that they were just accidents!_

"He murdered two, but he claimed that they were accidents. He in fact swore to Christine that he hadn't meant to." Raoul said slowly. "But either way, they're murder cases that the Opera Populaire paid to make some people quiet."

"Like who?" Maxwell asked, an interested gleam in his eyes.

"Well there was Carlotta for one. She and the tenor were planning to marry after the season ended. Then there was Monsieur Bouquet's family. Though there was talk of him ogling some of the girls, he never really touched any of them and he had a young wife and child tucked safely away at home."

Maxwell whistled, "That must have taken a lot of money to keep them quiet." he said thoughtfully zoning off, and Raoul could tell that the bolts inside his head moving.

"What are you thinking of Maxwell? You just said that neither of us could have the girl!" Raoul said tiredly.

"No," corrected Maxwell, "I did not say that we couldn't get the girl, I said that she probably was never either of ours in the first place."

"And what are you suggesting monsieur, that we kidnap her so that she can not be with her beloved Opera Ghost?" Raoul spat out, clearly annoyed with the suspense. Slowly, Maxwell nodded. "No, I cannot do that to her- that would make her hate us even more. And the Phantom would kill us for taking her! He doesn't even let her out of his sight!"

"Exactly! We will take her right from under his nose!" Maxwell said gleefully. "Are you with me or not? Because if not, then I'll just have to kill you."

"So _Madame Le Phantom_, may I ask how your husband- to- be is?" Meg asked Christine gleefully, as she twirled her around the dressing room.

Christine laughed. "We are not married yet, Meg. Don't start that up again. Remember that's what you did the night before _Don Juan_. The next thing you know, I had neither teacher nor fiancé." Meg stared at her, her head cocked in interest.

"And what did you two get up to after he stole you away from your stage?" She asked slyly. Christine blushed.

"Ah-well... nothing, really." Christine suddenly froze, then her face twisted into a smile. Quickly, she flung herself at Meg and began whispering into Meg's ear, "He's coming. Let's steal away from here for a moment. We're going to play a little trick on the Opera Ghost." As both began to giggle, they tip-toed out of the dressing room after Christine fiddled with the bed.

Seconds later the mirror was flung open and the Phantom came in, a rose in hand tied with the usual black ribbon. Looking around, he found the dressing room to be pitch black.

"Christine?" he asked, noticing the lump under the bed sheets. "Why are you sleeping during the day? Were you waiting for me?" Carefully he sat by the female form and began petting what he thought was her legs. Leaning close he said, "I'm glad you're asleep. I doubt I'd be able to confess the exact words of love again after tonight. But I have no idea what you've done to me. I feel like the man I haven't been for thirty years. I love you so much. But I don't think I can contain myself after we are married. I will make sure you will remember that night."

"I'm sure you will." whispered a voice in his ear. Whirling around, he managed to grab the person who had hidden behind him just as someone flicked on the lights. Meg Giry stood there, her face contorted from trying to suppress the laughter, and in his arms was none other then Christine.

"But you- I thought that-" he gestured towards the form under the bed sheets. Christine grinned.

"Some Opera Ghosts may be the master at trickery. But sometimes they can overlook the simplest traps." she announced before flinging the covers over to reveal pillows that had been placed to look like a person hiding under the covers.

moment later Christine and Meg burst out laughing and the Opera Ghost felt fooled.

"Some Opera Ghosts will have to keep their fiancés and soon- to- be wives under check." He snapped before going back through the mirror, slamming it shut.

Instantly it was quiet and Meg looked at Christine fearfully. "He wasn't serious, was he?" Meg asked quietly.

Christine shrugged. "I at least had my fun. You better go, I have to go meet a certain someone to apologize." She turned her back on the mirror and made a face at which Meg giggled at.

_...Angel my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last master_." Christine finished singing as she stood on the stage, the darkness enveloping her. Nothing, no response, no glimpse of a white mask in Box 5, nothing. _Will it be like this forever? Will my fun tricks ruin our relationship?_ So she did the second to last thing on her mind.

She sat there on the stage, scrunched up, and listened. She had no idea how long she lay there but soon found herself being raised up and clutched against someone's chest. Looking up all she had to see was the white flash of the half mask before looking away. "You didn't come." she said quietly.

He chuckled quietly and at that Christine frowned. _What was so funny now?_ "You mocked my intelligence and in front of the Giry girl." Christine smirked. _So that was what this was all about, huh? Well two can play that game. _"How much did you hear me say?" he asked quietly.

Christine swallowed, her throat dry from waiting in the drafty theater house. "All of it." she muttered. His arms seemed to tighten around her body and Christine could tell instantly that he felt awkward. "Though most of it I already knew. So did Meg. We guessed before you entered my dressing room what you might say. We were right."

He looked down at her surprised. "How did you know? Am I _that_ obvious?" Christine nodded then giggled. "Well, I still have to teach you a lesson for tricking the Opera Ghost like that. No one gets away with it, even his fiancé."

"You mean _your _fiancé." Christine said smiling up at him. He met her smile with a mischievous smirk.

"Yes, mine. You are mine. You will always be mine- _forever_." The Phantom whispered seductively into her ear. She shivered at the thought of it_. And this could have taken place so many months ago. If I had just stayed with him, I could have been his wife_.

"Yes I am yours: body, voice and soul." Christine whispered back to him. Looking around she realized that they were in a corridor she wasn't familiar with. "Where are we?"

"Another one of the entrances I built before you arrived here. I used this one when I had to go from my home to the rafters or when I had to 'announce' something to the audience." Christine laughed softly at this remembering when Carlotta had influenced the owners of the opera house to sing the main role and for herself (Christine) to play the silent role. "You like to laugh today don't you." Christine nodded.

Carefully, the Phantom laid Christine onto the floor of the gondola as he pushed off from the shore. Within minutes, they had reached the other side: the Phantom of the Opera's lair. "Do you want me to sing tonight?" Christine asked quietly as the Phantom picked her up again bridal- style. He was enjoying her weight in his arms and didn't answer straight away.

"No. Tonight I-" he stopped speaking abruptly and glanced down at her_. Was that my imagination or did he just blush_.

"What? What did you want to do tonight?" she asked innocently not realizing the double meaning of her words. She shifted almost unconsciously, and he had to bite back a groan_. The vixen! She does not know what she does to me!_ The inner beast in him raged_. Take her now! _It seemed to say, and it took all of his efforts to not- well do anything...

"Would it be too much if your fiancé asked for your permission to lay with you tonight." Christine seemed to pale, and he suddenly realized what she thought. "Not like that, Christine. We will save _that _for our wedding night. But just to sleep next to you and wake up with you in my arms." he added. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"I'd like that." she said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yes. _After _you admit that Meg and I did fool you." Christine said giggling. He groaned, this time in annoyance, and rolled his eyes.

"Fine I admit that you got the best of the Opera Populaire's Phantom of the Opera. But no more tricks- _that _is my job." he said grinning down at her. "So where now m' lady?" he asked.

She pointed in the direction of her room. "To the bed!" she cried out jokingly. He groaned again.

"Christine- you- you- will- have to- stop saying things like that Christine." he panted, trying to control himself. "Unless you want- tonight to be- your wedding night." Christine paled.

"You mean-?" she stopped there not knowing how to put the rest of it without being vulgar.

He nodded. Carefully she jumped out of the Phantom's arms and flung his cloak around him.

"Ummm.. I'm going to get ready for- ummm... bed." he groaned again and made as if to lunge towards her. She let out an "eep" and ran into her room.

He sighed as he went in the direction have to take care of some _business_. "Christine." he sighed. Tonight would _definitely _be a long night.

A knock sounded outside. "Christine, are you decent? May I come in?" asked the muffled voice. Christine checked herself in the mirror making sure she was dressed appropriately.

"Yes and yes." Christine said. The door opened and the Phantom stood there in a casual white flannel shirt and black pants. He let out a slight gasp at the sight of her. She was dressed in a white nightgown with a lace over gown, and her hair was loose and in the curls he loved so much.

"Christine, I don't know if I can do this." he said quietly. She walked towards him and pulled him onto the bed next to her.

"Just breathe, Angel." she said jokingly. Hesitantly he wrapped his arms around her, and leaned back breathing in the scent of her hair. Christine closed her eyes as a shiver went down her spine. _This is the man I love- not the mask, not the voice. This is the man who made my soul soar at his words_.

"Are you cold Christine?" he asked his melodious voice seemed to ring in an unnatural tone.

"No, just tired." she said. And it was true. Once the Phantom had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, Christine suddenly felt drowsy. Before she fell asleep she quietly asked. "What's your name?"

"Erik." she heard him whisper into her ear_. Erik, Erik, Erik_. With that, the one word led her to the world of dreams with her Angel's arms surrounding her like heaven's sent wings. After all he _was_ her angel.


	15. Chapter 15

She awoke to the sound of an organ and the scratching of ink on parchment- _just like the many other times before_... Christine stopped her thoughts from going back to that horrid night. What's done was done and Christine herself even admitted that she had been responsible for her actions. Focusing only onto the organ, she heard the notes clearly ringing out, something that she had never heard him play before.

Drawing the curtain open from surrounding the swan bed, Christine walked towards Erik (AN: Yay! I can finally use his name now!) and she could barely catch the words that he was softly singing to himself.

_No one would listen  
No one but her  
Heard as the outcast hears. _

_Shamed into solitude,  
Shunned by the multitude,  
I learned to listen  
In my dark, my heart heard music_

Christine crept closer towards him, entranced by his rich voice...

_I long to teach the world,  
Rise up and reach the world  
No one would listen  
I alone could hear the music _

_Then at last, a voice in the gloom  
Seemed to cry "I hear you;  
I hear your fears,  
Your torment and your tears."_

Tears clung to Christine's face, yet Erik still had not realized that she was there... _So beautiful_...

_She saw my loneliness  
Shared in my emptiness  
No one would listen  
No one but her  
Heard as the outcast hears_

She was brave now, and stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder, letting him know that she was there. Without stopping, he leaned his cheek onto Christine's hand as he finished the song.

..._No one would listen  
No one but her  
Heard as the outcast hears..._

When he looked up at her expectantly, he expected the song to touch her heart- but tears? Had he hurt her somehow?

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Erik as confused.

Christine sniffled. "You wrote that- for me?" she asked hiccupping. Erik nodded still confused. Christine threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, not realizing the affect she had on him. He closed his eyes and tried so hard to keep in the groan, as her body instantly molded against him.

"Christine, it's one thing... being a woman and not knowing what effects you have... but it's another thing being a man..." he trailed off when she realized what he meant.

Letting out a squeak, Christine jumped off of him, and he awkwardly tried to get up. _Think cold things...water... ice...Christine...ice...Christine...water...Christine...snow...Christine..._ Once more he groaned at her name as he dashed away from where his organ was, as Christine stared at him, confused.

"Christine... you need to leave... I'll come back to get you later and bring you back down." she heard Erik yell from the other side.

Christine then asked the stupidest thing: "In time for bed?" she asked naively, hoping that she would get to snuggle up to her betrothed one.

A loud groan could be heard as he shouted her name. And the sound of running foot steps approached her. Thinking quickly, she knew that if she didn't react soon, he would be there in seconds and Christine also knew that she would be powerless to stop him. Quickly pushing the gondola away from the bank, she climbed in and began to row it away, her back turned away from the bank, just far enough for it to be too deep for even Erik to wade into...

A howl interrupted her thoughts, and she whirled around scared. There was Erik, the water up to his chest as he began talking in some foreign language. "Christine... you really are smart. I cannot swim." he let out a dark mirthless laugh, and Christine knew straight away that his _dark and manly instincts _had taken over. This was a side she had never seen- Erik had usually kept this side of himself hidden. "But don't worry Christine, you will come back to me soon- you won't go to that fop of a Vicomte."

Christine stared at him confused. _Why would I go back to Raoul_? Her thoughts distracted her but she broke away from them when she heard a whistle through the air, and the lasso ended on the hook of the gondola. Christine collapsed onto the bottom of the gondola just sitting there, and stared at him as he began towing the gondola back to his lair. "You shouldn't run Christine- I can be so easily angered when something that is _mine _tries to run away from me."

She held her chin high. "I wasn't trying to run away from you, Erik. I was just trying to keep myself a virgin for our marriage night." Christine said. Erik stopped and looked at her, his head cocked to the side.

"We really are getting married aren't we?" Christine asked softly. Erik's eyes were still glazed over with some emotion that Christine knew she should stay away from until her wedding night.

"Might as well get married now Chrissy." Erik said. And that was when Christine knew that he wasn't himself. Closing her eyes, she began to sing, her voice calming him down. (AN: lyrics- "Unexpected Song" by ALW)

_I have never felt like this  
For once I'm lost for words  
Your smiles has really thrown me.  
This is not like me at all  
I never thought I'd know  
The kind of love you've shown me. _

_I don't know what's going on  
Can't work it out at all  
Whatever made you choose me?  
I just can't believe my eyes  
You look at me as though  
You couldn't bare to lose me. _

_I have never felt like this  
For once I'm lost for words  
Your smiles has really thrown me.  
This is not like me at all  
I never thought I'd know  
The kind of love you've shown me. _

_Now no matter where I am  
No matter what I do  
I see your face appearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing  
Like an unexpected song  
An unexpected song  
That only we are hearing._

As she sang the last note, she opened her eyes and realized that Erik's eyes were once more sharp and alert- the way they were before...what had just happened...

"Christine-God- I almost..." he broke down and began crying as he drew the gondola closer. Reaching in he picked her up bridal style, as she clung to him, and he cried. Hesitantly Christine tried to calm him but he only continued- more from shame than letting his emotions loose.

"Erik. Shhh… Even if you had tried, you know I wouldn't have let you.


	16. Author's note:

okay so….

i'm not going to be adding any new chapters onto this story _until _I get at 10- 20 reviews because this is really lame. I'm sorry i had to delete the original version and all, but you could all at least gimme a break here...

Sinecerely and sorely dissapointed in all you phans out there,

BloodRose


	17. Chapter 16

OMG! All of you have permission to stab me to death because of my lack of... well writing. Sorry, school has been hell... and may no one mention the word "Finals." So strike me with the Punjab lasso if you must. but here is the long awaited chapter... Enjoy!

Sincerely: Blood Rose

* * *

Raoul paced his chambers… well the chambers that he would have shared with his ex fiancé, had she still married him. Why would she go with _him_? If it had been another Vicomte, he would have understood- but a monster? What was it she saw in him? Was there even a strand of mercy in him? Raoul didn't think so- not after he had almost been killed... three times now. 

But who was the bigger evil? the new vicomte or the Phantom? The Phantom had only tried to kill Raoul because of Christine's betrayal, but the new vicomte would kill ANYONE who even breathed next to Christine- once she was his. But didn't Raoul want her as well? He did still want Christine, right?

A knock sounded on the door interrupting his thoughts. Anger boiled over: _he had told no one to distract him from his thoughts!_ Unbolting the door he flung the door open. "I thought I left instructions for _no one-_" he stopped as his eyes widened in disbelief at whom was at his door.

"You."

* * *

Meg Giry knew that there was one thing she had and always would love: to dance. But what she didn't know was that there were others things in life that she _could_ love; things other than the Arts. She had fallen in love, slowly, with the new Vicomte. It seemed no one had noticed her slowly progressing amour; not even Christine, her best friend and even said sister, had noticed- she was too wrapped up in her own life: three men after her heart, and clearly she only loved the one that had been helping her take grasp of her dream. She refused to let it show: this was something that she had to get rid of. Her mother had told her so many times that a performer, or entertainer, had to be emotionally attached, otherwise her movements would portray that she was jubillant during a mournful movement, if her heart became broken then her movements would be dead, hollow. 

Which is why Madame Giry had decided to visit the Vicomte de Chagny. She knew her daughter inside and out, and lately she had realized that there was an unnatural light step in her movements. The new Vicompte _had _to go.

"Monseiur Vicompte. If I may have a moment of your solitude. What I have to talk to you is of upmost secrecy and it is you that I, for now, must rely on. It's about my Meg."

Raoul looked at her, disdain written all over his face. "Madame Giry, if you have noticed there are other things on my plate that I would like to enjoy before I must leave my table." he stated coldly_. She _had been the one who had locked the door when Raoul had first been reuntied with Christine. It was _she _who had to tell him the Phantom's story of pity, yet it was also _she_ who had done her best to seperate the both of them for, which might be, maybe even eternity.

"Monsieur de Chagny, in all of my time I have known you- if you cared at all, as you claimed in the past, to have loved Christine, then let your love for her listen to me. If you do not, then I fear for both Christine and Erik's life."

"And Erik is?"

"Erik is the man you have come to know with much loathing. He is, Monseiur, the Phantom of the Opera." That title just seemed to bring out the worst in him.

He spoke slowly this time, fury laced within every word. If her alligence still lay with that deformed _thing_, then for what reason was she coming to him? "Madame Giry, if you desire to walk out my personal quarters _alive_, I beg you to not mention that _thing's _name ever again in my presence." She paled at that, her former, calm countenance seemed to not be up to her usual strict manner.

"Christine is in _danger_, Raoul. She is in danger because two men who love her, yet know they cannot have her, will do anything to attain her: even if it means her own death. Her spirit is too kind for this to happen to her. She will try to make the three of you happy, but she has made her decision. You must accept this, before this deep hatred that you harbor takes you, Raoul."

"What does this have to do with little Meg?"

"Meg has fallen in love with our newest patron. I believe it is him anyway. Her love for you has vanished after your conduct and your unfilled promises of visiting _her_ were realized. You broke her heart, and unless you can find a way to beg for her foregiveness, I can assure you that you will have more than one Giry on your "most hated" list. If Meg tells the Vicompte of her feelings, he may ask Meg for her help to prove her love, devotion and worthiness. He will use her, in more ways than one, and then drop her in spurning. I know men like him, men like you become men like _him_. We do not need anymore blood on the steps of our opera house." Raoul was a little taken back at her blunt approach. It wasn't what he had expected her to say, but otherwise it felt like a slap on his face.

"Meg can take care of herself, Madame. If she falls into the Vicompte's clutches, then that is because she allowed herself to be taken in that way. As for her loving me- that in its own words is impossible. There is not much in life I can offer her. Besides my wealth. But she does not want that, now does she?"

Madame Giry skook her head. "You know what it is she wants from you. The real question is whether or not you can give that to her."

Raoul sighed as he looked out the window, his thoughts, for once, focused on the tiny blonde who had always hovered by Christine's side. She was pretty, graceful and also had a sense of placement. For now she would do. Who knows, maybe they would grow to love each other.

* * *

"Mademouselle Daae, you must understand that you cannot keep going down to visit your fiance at the moment." Monseiur Andre said, trying his best to block her way. "He has an opera to write: one with less... ah... raciness involved." 

"Well then, Monseiur Andre, you will have to let me pass. For if he does not see me tonight, then I will not have the ability to sing tomorrow. And just think: a day with no production towards lining your pockets with all of that money. Besides, where else will his moments of 'raciness' occur?" He turned red at that, but still refused to let her pass. Stamping her foot in annoyace, she cried out the name that she loved the most. "Erik!"

It took only seconds before they heard his voice from, what they presumed to be, the heavens_. Insolent man! You slave of fashion! You who dares, do not enter! Leave me in peace, you slight annoyance! Go and study your account books_! With a small yelp, Monseiur Andre sped away from Christine's Dressing room mirror and out of her personal rooming quarters. He let out a deep chuckle as he entered his beloved's room. "Christine, Christine, Christine. You're going to have to stop distracting me if you want that opera finished."

She blushed, knowing that he had heard their whole conversation but embraced him nonetheless. "Erik! I feel as though I haven't seen you in weeks!" This emitted another laugh from the dark maker of Night Music.

"My sweet little Daae girl, I have only been without your company for two days. Or have you become dependant on me?" With that, Christine tore herself out of her love's arms and collapsed on her bed, as sobs could be heard down the hall.

"You didn't miss me! Why didn't you miss me? Do you not love me?" With this, she clung to her sheets as she held onto her pillow for dear life.

Alarmed, Erik rushed to her side, and watched her quietly for a moment as her body shook. "I was jesting my dearest. I have missed you as well. I swear it! There is no other that I love!" Finding her chin, he raised her head up only to see a lack of wetness on her face and her face covered by a bright smile. Realizing quickly that he had been fooled once more, he pushed her back and began to torture her with the one tool that never failed: tickling.

"Erik! You must stop! I- can't--- breathe!" she said, her sides burning from all of her laughing. His tickling soon subsided as he repositioned her so that she was sitting upright against his broad chest.

"There will be another moment, my sweet," he began whispering into her ear, "when you will be calling out my name_, but not asking me to stop_." With this, Christine turned a dark red, the blush concluding to Erik that this was not something she had expected to hear.

Erik got up from behind her and helped Christine up from her position on the bed. "Come, _cherie_, there is much music to work on."

"But don't you need to finish the opera you told the managers about?" Christine asked as she held back.

Chuckling, Erik picked Christine up and held her in his arms. "But my dear, how can you finish something that you never started? Besides, how can I work without my muse and diva's presence?" **

* * *

**

Again my many apologies! I didn't mean to leave anyone hanging at all... and if anyone would like to write a very good lemon for the wedding night, send me a review or message, and I will give you all of the details about what will happen before that, as well as change the rating to 'M.' Because I'm not the best lemon writer... and all of you readers deserve the best I can find... so... let me know!!!!! And please review!!!!!

-Sincerely: Blood Rose


	18. Chapter 17

Chuckling to himself, Erik led his muse down towards his chambers of everlasting darkness, as he recalled the events that had occurred. It seemed like yesterday when they had first met face to face. When he had first seen Christine without her being asleep. "Christine, do you remember that first night? Do you remember the mistake you almost made?" he asked, softly whispering in her ear causing shivers down her spine.

"How could I ever forget? I sometimes ponder over what would have happened if I had accepted the Vicomte's hand. I know that eventually would have returned, yet I sometimes wonder when and how. I had really wanted to come back straight away from London- but I thought you were dead..." she muttered in reply as he helped Christine into the gondola.

He seemed amused at this. "How can I die, when it is believed that I am but a mere Phantom? I am nothing but a shadow. 'Twould be wrong, m'lady, to assume or want anything more out of me." he said with a mock bow.

She glared at him at that. "Then I guess you should turn this gondola around, Monseiur, unless you cannot even physically touch anything." she said teasingly before turning around and making her way towards the end of the gondola. She hesitated for a moment, trying to calculate the distance and her chances of surviving that jump, when a hand grabbed her wrist and swung her into a stone block of a chest... one that she knew all too well.

"My dear Mademoiselle, if I could not physically touch you, then how am i doing this?" he asked brushing his other hand lightly against her stomach. Though she tried to hide it, Erik could see her cheeks flushing, her heartbeat accelerating. Erik grinned before drawing his fiance in for another kiss. Temptation may be around the corner, but why wait when you could cross the street?

* * *

"Mademoiselle Giry! Wait!" Meg turned around to find the Vicomte de Chagny behind her.

"Monseuir de Chagny." she replied mockingly while drawing into a deep curtsy full of annoyance. "Was there something you needed that I could help you with?"

"Actually there was, Meg." She drew back sharply at the sound of her name spilling forth from Raoul's lips. It actually sounded... _nice_. He had never said it before, so why now? "I was wondering if you were available to dine with me tonight. There are some things, I believe, that need to be discussed." Numbly Meg nodded, not trusting herself to speak as her heart pounded faster. _But wasn't she over Raoul already? _

"I would be delighted to join you. When and where, Monseuir?" Raoul laughed at that.

"My carriage will arrive at the front door by... let's say seven tonight. Does that seem reasonable enough to you, Meg?" She blushed as he said her name once again.

"My mother-"

"-has already been talked to, and she has agreed to tonights meeting." Raoul explained calmly interrupting. "Now it does not matter whether or not you dress up or down, this is just a nice dinner out. I will see you tonight, Mademouiselle." With a small bow sent to her direction, Raoul turned on his heel and walked away. Ironically just a few seconds before Christine appeared.

"Meg! _Was that Raoul_?" Christine asked, as she seemingly was almost bouncing up and down from so much excitement.

"What Christine?" Meg asked, suddenly feeling cautious. "Do you miss having Raoul as your lover? Do you not like having only one man to wind about your finger? Am I not allowed to have my own lover in secret, or must you always have to know everything that goes on in my _personal _life?" She snapped. Christine paled at her best friend's words. Was this because they hadn't had time for themselves lately?

"I- I- I'm sorry Meg, I just haven't had time to catch up with you and I got all excited that for once you might be happy..." she kept rushing on, oblivious to Meg's disbelief. _For _once_ she might have happiness?_

"I'm sorry, Christine, if my life is not fit and as full of escapading drama as yours. What a pity that there are not as many loose girls around here like _you._" Meg sneered as she tried her best to cover up her hurt. Christine flinched as she took those words as a slap in the face. _So Meg wants to play like that, does she? Well two can play that game... _

"I'm sorry, I mistook you for my friend _Megan Giry_. If you see her, could you please let her know that I'm looking for her. I guess appearances can be deceiving- though the two of you look so alike that you could be twins." Christine said cooly before turning on her heel and striding away to hide the tears that began to slowly climb down her face.

Meg Giry watched as her friend walked away as anger took over her body. _Well... good riddance_. Meg too turned on her heel and left. She had a dinner to prepare for.

* * *

Well... I'm sorry for turning Meg and Christine into such bitches today... i'm in a peculiar mood... but anyway... wedding night... coming up soon: I NEED A LEMON WRITER!!!

please and thank you!

BloodRose

PLease R&R!!!


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: AH! i will one day have to have a 24- 48 writing spaz so that i can write a HUGE chapter to make up for my unwanted silence in the writing community. I've been currently preoccupied with singing competitions and such. i actually want to send a thank you shout out to WOLFY73 whose notification reminded me that i had unfinished writing going on.. So thanks Wolfy!!!! )

And now, onward with the story...

Many apologies,

BloodRose

* * *

Raoul smiled at his reflection as he scrutinized his image for perfection. From the moment he had intercepted Meg, he knew that she would melt into his hand like honey: all he had to do was woo her once more into believing that he was in love with her. It would be so easy. So simple. She had already shown the feelings that she still harbored for him on her eyes when she had said yes. Any other girl of her age and status would have turned on their heel and left him standing. Especially when he had showed up for Christine and not for Meg. Ahh... yes... _Christine_... 

That was a girl who knew what she wanted in life. And if she wanted you, then by god you were lucky. That girl knew how to shower you with love, and even put you on a pedestal without even realizing what she was doing. But of course she had to go and choose that... well, she had to go and choose Erik.

And Erik was a completely different story. All along, Raoul could tell that it was Christine that Erik had pined for. All along, the Phantom of the Opera had declared his weakness by pinning his heart onto his sleeve, literally, and openly showing his affections for _Christine_... well he really should associate her with the name of Miss Daae as it was that they were not on the fondest of terms anymore... which was a complete and utter shame that he no longer was in contact with an angel from heaven. Perhaps he should try praying to the Angel of Music as well? Chuckling softly to himself, Raoul gave himself a once more glance over in the mirror before making his way out of his private chambers. Before leaving, he glanced at his carefully made bed, realizing that it had been a while since he had had a woman here... Maybe Little Meg would be the starter...

_let the curtain rise; let my opera begin... _

* * *

If there was one thing that Antoinette Giry hated to do the most, it would have to be asking the Phantom of the Opera for help. Though good friends, she did not like having her requests for help counted and tabbed against her. But this was for a good cause. This was for Christine. He had previously forbidden her to ever enter his domain ever again, but that had been directly after the betrayal. Maybe now, he had a change of heart. Quickly Antoinette made her way through the tunnel towards the Phantom's lair. He _had_ to be warned. 

"I thought I told you to _never _return here, Anoinette." A baritone voice whispered into her ear, casuing the usually stern ballet mistress to startle from the sudden interruption of silence.

"I- I- I only thought it was because of... before, Erik. I didn't know tha-" a whistle through the air caused her to act instantly. _Hand at the level of your eye._ Erik had sent the Punjab Lasso after _her_. Now her mood switched to that of seething fury. "Erik! I am here to save Christine! Not to have the Vicomte-"

"Finish his name, and it will be the last time you will ever be able to speak, much less breathe." the Opera Ghost hissed. His eyes flashed in warning; he was no longer the understanding man, he was becoming once more leashed into darkness- back during his time in Persia. The memories of betrayal ran deep into his mind.

"Erik, listen to me." she said calmly, trying her best not to make the masked man's temper flare again. "You have to marry Christine _as soon as possible!_ The new Vicomte is after her! Not- well, you know. _He_ is too busy pursuing my daughter." she added as an afterthought of pride. Margaurite Giry de Chagny, Vicomtess. How nice that sounded!

"Madame, we have decided to wait until I have finished the opera before we even begin to plan a wedding fit for a queen. Which she is, in my eyes." Erik's eyes softened at the thought of his fiance. Already he had dreamed of their wedding: both day and night. She would be a vision in white and wine red- colors on a dress that already Erik had designed and ready within his mind. The party who would be honoured to witness the event of their marriage would be in all black and white. He wanted His Christine to stand out, yet still be modestly part of the reast of the world. His world and His life. His Love...

"I really am sorry to interupt whatever dreams are being formed in your mind, Erik, but we have a larger situation here that must be solved before you start planning your dream wedding. Though I must say Erik," Antoinette said with a certain sparkle in her eye, "I'm not sure what the men at the wedding reception would say when you took over the _Bride's _job and designed the whole wedding. Oh my. Erik, are you- are you blushing?"

Furious at himself, Erik swung himself away from his "mother's" teasing face as he fought to control his facial features as well as remind himself of the danger that this woman had put him through beforehand. "So, Madame, if you are so wise, do you even _know _what it is that the Vi- the Vicomte has planned." The word had been hard to spit out, yet hatred seemed to fuel its take off.

Madame Giry shook her head. "No, I have no been able to find out. The new Vicomte has actually not been seen here at the operahouse for sometime."

"Then why the worry, Madame? Why the sudden need to see Christine married and claimed?"

"Because, Erik, you hid for so long before _Don Juan _and afterwards, you kidnapped your now fiance." Antoinette said softly, partially hopeful that Erik did not here her words. Unfortunately, he did.

"You dare compare that- that- that _thing _to me?" Erik asked, paling. All of the blood seemed to drain from his face as it slowly began to sink in. _It was true_. They were almost one. The same. Their minds were the same. So their plans would be nearly the same. The man, like him, was a genius. At that thought, something seemed to click. But what? "He'll kidnap her midway during the next production. Probably threatening her with the audience's lives- he may also use gunfire as an additional threat. Who knows. I hardly seem to even know myself anymore." Erik said quietly, talking more to himself than to the woman who had been like a mother to him his whole life.

"Erik, forgive me. I did not mean it. The words slipped out..." Antoinette Giry trailed off as she recognized the hurt in the man's eyes- the broken look of betrayal.

He lunged at her then, pinning her between the wall and himself and with his hand moved her chin up so that she could see his eyes. "I have one more use for you, Madame. Think of it as your act of penance for your cold words. I need you to arrange passage for two to America. After that you must do one last thing." he hesitated for a second, as though wanting to make the scene somewhat more... dramatic.

"Anything Eric. Tell what you want me to do so that you will not remain angry with me." Madame Giry despised agreeing to what it was that Eric wanted but this was how she lived: off of her 'son.' The payment at the operahouse was hardly enough to support her and her daughter. Only the managers and the prima donnas of the stage made enough. Yet Erik's next harsh words put a sinking stone in her heart.

"Never seek me out, Madame. Never try to engage into a conversation with my fiance, nor myself. Most of all keep your daughter away from Christine. She came running to me distraught yesterday, about how Meg hated her. So I doubt that your daughter will look for her anyway. But hear my words now, Madame. For if I see you conversing with Christine, God forbid, it may be your last. Do not try taming my fire, woman, or you may get burned." Numbly, Antoinette nodded, her face down cast. Within one day, she had lost both a son as well as a daughter- yet had gained two new people who wanted to have nothing to do with her. As she turned to leave the tunnel and once more approach society, Erik grabbed her hand, startling Antoinette a bit, yet catching her attention. "Some advice that you have given others I will not give you." He bent closer and unconciously, Antoinette flinched. "_Keep you eyes at the level of Raoul's hand_. Do not leave Meg alone with the Vicomte unless he has wed her."

Eyes flashing, Antoinette grabbed her hand away from the Opera Ghost's own. "Do not presume to tell me how to chaperone _my _daughter, Fantome, when you have a daughter one day, you may watch her as you may like. Besides Meg has _nothing _that the Vicomte would want." With that, she glared at him once more before walking away. Leaving the man garbed in black alone and watching her walk away.

"There you are wrong, Madame" Erik muttered under his breath, "Meg Giry has the one thing that that man will want. Her virginity."


	20. Chapter 20

OMG!!! I AM SO SORRY!!!!

It's been ages since I've updated, and for that I send out my deepest apologies.

Please enjoy this tidbit for now- a much longer chapter shall be posted ASAP.

I am yur most obedient servant:

Blood Rose.

* * *

Madame Giry huffed out a breath of annoyance as she wandered throughout the opera house: a place that she had once viewed as her home and now looked like a prison. She had never thought that she would be considered a threat to Erik, much less Christine. She stopped in her tracks at the thought of not being able to openly communicate with the young woman that she had taken under her wing. Meg would never be able to talk to her sister figure, and nor would Christine- the _Opera Ghost_ would make sure of that. 

What had the girls quarrelled about? Meg had the quiet disposition to bend to anyone's will, so why would there be such a display of open dislike?

* * *

Christine sighed as she stared across the stage, watching the ballerina's nimbly make their way across the vast space. It had been four days since their argument, but even Christine couldn't figure out what went wrong. Meg would turn and glare at her, Madame Giry avoided looking at her, nor did she even try and contact her. The score for a new written opera written once again by Erik called _La Tragedia _loosely was clasped in her hand. 

Erik had announced the title of the new Opera not two days ago, yet already the stage hands were hammering away as sets slowly were formed. Again, Christine was to be the leading soprano, yet this time Erik assured her that he would not be performing with her; a tenor was, at this moment, making his way from England and would arrive in a day or so. Because the opera was in Italian, Christine still was not sure what it was that she was singing about. What she did know was that her role's sister (who needed to be a mezzo-soprano) had not been casted. Erik still did not know who he wanted placed to blend with Christine's voice. Always it was concerning her voice. Never _her_.

Speak of the devil himself, Christine inwardly mused, as she watched her fiance casually stroll down the aisle of the house. Erik had never been able to do this during his reign of havoc; once more it had to do with money. These francs were slowly beginning to take over as a source of political power in Erik's mind. If it were not for Erik's amusement, the ex-opera ghost would have fired the two managers- even she knew that they were useless.

As the dancers continued with the choreographed moves, Erik swung himself onto the stage. He seemed... happy- if that word was allowed to describe a man who had gone through so many horrors in his life. "Ladies and gentlemen, excuse me, but I must make an announcement." Murmurs ran through the cast. Would they finally learn who the second soprano would be? "As all of you may know, there is one role that has yet to be filled: the role of Luciana, sister to Marietta. I have decided to pull Megan Giry from the _corps de ballet _and cast her in this role."

Indignant cries rose from the ballerinas as Meg Giry stared at the masked man before all of them. She a _singer_? Paling, she glanced at her mother who stood there collected, yet thin- lipped, throughout the whole exchange_. She had known something like this would happen_. Her mother turned to her and held out a hand. Nodding, Meg slowly bent over and untied the ribbons of her pointe shoes and taking them off, walked over to her mother. Confusion shining in her eyes, Meg handed them to the ballet mistress before turning her eyes longingly towards the group of ballerinas huddled about and gossiping within their ranks. She was no longer one of _them_. Her dream was gone. Her _mother's _dream was gone.

Glancing at Christine, Meg took in the face of this brunette: her eyebrows drawn together, teeth biting the lower lip. She hadn't known. Walking over towards Christine, Meg let out a half- hearted smile. At that, Christine's eyebrows shot up as she seemed somewhat insulted. Then Meg remembered: their argument; they weren't on speaking terms- she flinched at the memory. "I'm sorry, Christine. I spoke rashly." Meg whispered softly to the brunette next to her. Surprise flickered across the girl's face. Opening her mouth, Christine started to reply, but glanced at Erik who seemed to be watching the two girls, his eyes flashing warningly, and quickly she closed it. The chorus and dancers still milled about once more getting into place. But Antoinette refused to direct the ballerinas and instead strode towards the renowned masked figure while motioning to the door.

Understanding her meaning, Erik looked towards the two soprano leads. "Ladies if you please? Megan, you may share a score with Christine for now." Nodding once, Meg huddled closer towards the leading soprano. Turning around, Erik walked towards the edge and jumped off the stage, before turning towards the conducter. "Monsieur Reyers, if you could please continue with the rehearsal, I shall return with another score soon. I trust you to lead Mademoiselle Giry in, as well as keep both girls busy." Quickly nodding at the direct look sent by Erik, Monsieur Reyers nodded, before turning towards the orchestra and signaling for them to start from the overature.

As the prelude continued, flowing into a flowing harmony, Christine leaned in towards Meg and quietly whispered, "I am sorry as well, dear Meg." before putting on a bright smile as the opening chorus began:

(A/N: "( )" symbolize the maidens singing; without symbolizes main chorus- men women)

_(Have you heard?) No! __Is the news true?_

_A man of youth, (__A man of nobility.)_

_Come here, he has. (A maiden he wants of marriageable age.)_

_Maidens come forth: prepare yourselves_

_Be of beauty and maidenly virtue._

_(How's my hair? How's my dress?)_

_A girl of vanity he does not want,_

_but one of moral beauty._

* * *

Raoul de Chagny was furious. No- even that was not a powerful enough word. 

Raoul de Chagny was seething in fury. He had thought that once he had left Christine alone, that- _that thing _would leave him alone! Was Meg Giry also another one of his prospects? Was he planning on wooing every dancer and singer at the Opera House? Or was this just so that _he_ could only gloat about the control that he had over _everyone_ who set foot in that blasted building. Raoul slammed his shot glass of whiskey back onto his desk, the clear liquid bathing the carefully planned words on the piece of parchment in front of him. Swearing, he picked up the now blurred paper and tossed it into the fire that roared within its confinements. Yet the words still pounded inside his head:

Monsieur de Chagny,

Let me assure you that I do know of your intentions towards Little Giry. Should they be anything other than honorable, I assure you that my lasso shall find the comfort of your neck once again, and let me insist that this time, my hand _will _slip.

Your most obedient servant,

OG

* * *

Yet Raoul was not the only one deeply angered. An elderly woman could be found ranting in the Prima Donna's rooms where a masked man leaned against the dressing room door, smirking.

"Do you _know_ how much time it has taken me to discipline her? To nurture her into a ballerina? For her to be this far, and then you have to go and ruin everything, Erik! You of all people know what I have been through to see her rise this far up in success..."

"Madame-" Erik found himself hardly able to utter one word during her ranting.

"...And to think that I have been _trusting_ you this whole time. I diverted Monsieur's attention when props and clothing were stolen. I delivered the letters. I acted as your go between for your designs and plans for the opera house..."

"Madame-"

"...When my husband passed, I could have left Paris and go to Russia so that Meg could have proper training! But I stayed because I knew that you were not ready to move to a different country- you would be out of your critiquing work if he joined us! I chose to not leave so that you wouldn't think that I had abandoned you!"

"Antoinette!" That caught her attention. She paused from her pacing and looked up at the now glowering man, and for another minute, she found herself fearing for her own life. "Will you allow me to explain my actions, or do you choose to continue looking like an imbecile?" His tone was not polite; it was harsh, full of anger and irritiation- at her? Who knew. Only one young woman knew of his tempers, and she was currently practicing on stage with her own daughter.

Her own daughter. A singer. A soon-to-be mezzo Prima Donna: this Antoinette knew for sure; Erik did not do things halfway. Everything had to be the best no matter what.

"My reasons are simple: I wish to make Meg the second lead only for this opera. I assure you that after this, she will once more lead your precious _ballet de courps_. Christine is not happy- even I can see that. She misses her sister, and so I hope this is a way for them to reconnect together. There is also the matter of the infamous Raoul de Chagny..." Erik trailed off at the look on Madame's face.

"And what of him? He is not a bad man, Erik. His intentions towards Christine were honorable, and so I am sure that they are as honest to Meg as they were to her." Antoinette replied, ignoring that pained look on the man's face at the mentioning of Raoul and Christine in the same sentence. "It is not my fault that the two of you received wrong impressions of the other. You must understand that he has shown a different face to the world. I trust him." She continued calmly.

Scowling, Erik dug out a scrap of parchment and thrust it under the Madame's gaze. "If that is so, then explain this!" Erik hissed, his temper beginning to flare. Antoinette glared at him in return before snatching the scrap of writing . Her face paled as her eyes feasted upon the words written.

_"Mon Dieu!" _


End file.
